


The Butterfly Effect

by NikaylaSarae



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Acrophobia, Blood, Bomb (mention), Bullying (implied/mentioned), Car accident (mentioned), Fear of Heights, Fighting, Hurt/Comfort, Knives, Major Character Death (mentioned not detailed), Medicinal Misuse, Nausea, Negative Self Talk, Panic Attack, Partial paralysis, Punching, Suicide (mentioned), Suicide Attempt, Toxic Roommates (implied/mentioned), falling, injuries, prison (mentioned), surgery (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 39,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24064273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikaylaSarae/pseuds/NikaylaSarae
Summary: Roman has three chances to change his life for the better. Three chances to fix past mistakes. Three chances to totally screw it all up. But who said life is worth living unless one takes a little risk?
Comments: 94
Kudos: 71





	1. Always Green

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted with minor edits from my Tumblr account @stillebesat
> 
> Written for the TS Big Bang 2018 event on Tumblr. 
> 
> Story Inspired by: @writing-prompt-s post: _“My domain is time,” said the Genie. “Instead of three wishes, you get three decisions. Go back and choose again.”_

Thomas had had way too much practice in hiding the wave of disappointment that washed through him when his current Warp refused to meet his eyes. 

Every time. 

He pasted an understanding smile on his face, easily keeping the gleaming rainbow that danced under his opal skin in check as she stood there, shoulders hunched. “Becca, what choice have you made?” He gently prodded. 

Her breath hitched as she reluctantly looked up, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Sniffing, she held out the golden pocket watch to him, the circular device swinging on its chain between them. 

He already knew what she was going to say from that simple action alone and it left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

“I choose my old life.” She whispered.

Of course she did. That’s what everyone did. 

“Is this your final decision?” He asked, taking the watch back, running his thumb over its etched surface. “There’s no changing your mind after this point.” 

A small smile appeared on her lips as she brushed at her eyes, her tense body relaxing now that she no longer held the device that could have given her so much more if she hadn’t squandered her three choices chasing after her old lover. “Yes. I want my life back, I was…” She lifted her head, squaring her shoulders. “I was happier there. Despite…” She bit her lip. “Despite Billy not being in it.” 

Too bad she hadn’t realized that when she made her first choice. Thomas twisted his hand, the watch vanishing from the woman’s sight as he sent it back into the time stream to find him his next Warp. 

“Alright.” He said, keeping his smile sympathetic as he stepped forward, reality already shifting around Becca as he lightly placed his glimmering hand against her cheek. _“What once was, shall now return. I give you back the life for which you yearn.”_ He brushed a single tear from her cheeks as the world reset around her in a swirl of colors, returning her to the tree swing he’d found her sitting in when he’d pulled her into the Warp. 

She breathed deep, the last of the tension leaving her as she sank into the swing, her hands clinging to the rope as she looked up to Thomas. “Thank you.” 

Thomas dropped his hand, giving her a gracious nod despite the fact he was screaming on the inside, barely keeping the fiery reds and oranges from overtaking the more mellow greens and blues as they danced on his skin. 

Why did people do that? Thank him for returning them to their original life? He’d done nothing to help them get to that point. It was like thanking a heart surgeon for not actually needing to operate on them. 

He took a step back away from her, his ‘job’ now done. He nodded to her. “I wish you well, Becca.” He said quietly, the wind kicking up around them as he pulled at a ripple of time, allowing the familiar current to surround him and whisk him away, leaving his voice echoing in her ears. **_“May you continue to find happiness in your future decisions.”_**

Thomas stepped out of the timestream, his hands balling up into fists as he appeared in the Commons of his Divison’s portion of the Ethereal Plane. With a quick glance around to make sure no one else was present, Thomas let out a string of curses, his skin exploding in vibrant colors like a firework finale as he let his temper surface. He turned to the nearest wall composed of clouds and punched it, a blazing rainbow ball of time energy shooting from his fist to ricochet around the room. 

“Dude! You gotta stop throwing those around willy nilly!” Came the welcome but also unwelcome voice of his fellow Time Genie, and best friend, Joan from across the room as they ducked their head, narrowly avoiding getting smacked by the time ball. “Nobody ever wants to get hit with Deja Vu you know.” They stated, waving a hand to disperse the time energy.

Thomas groaned, throwing himself face down onto the nearest couch, the fire opal sheen to his skin shimmering a faint blue. “Sorry.” He mumbled into the cushions. In his defense the room had been empty when he’d released his pent up frustration. It was Joan’s bad luck that they’d chosen to return from their own Time Warp just then.

“Uh oh. Don’t tell me….another failed Warp?”

“You tell me.” Thomas sighed, pushing himself up off the couch, running a hand through his hair to fix it as he joined Joan at the far wall where a large electronic-esque leaderboard gave off an ambient white glow. “How far did I drop this time?” 

Joan lifted a hand, running their finger down the list of names as the order shifted and fluctuated on the screen, pausing at a point near their waist. “Uhmm…”

“That’s what I thought.” Thomas turned to lean against the wall, scuffing his foot against the rainbow flooring. 

It wasn’t like it was a bad thing, per se, that Becca had chosen to return to her original timeline. After all, part of Thomas’s and any other Time Genie’s job was to show the humans the consequences of their decisions; the possibilities of other lives they could have led had they made a different choice. It was pretty common to have those involved in a Time Warp see just how good their life had been in the first place and choose to return to it. 

That was why they were referred to as Greens by his Division. No permanent world altering had taken place with them. 

Thomas bowed his head, closing his eyes. He was so tired of getting Greens. At this point he’d be over the moon to have a Warp end in Blue. At least with Blues something permanently changed, even if it was so minor that hardly a ripple was felt in the timelines. At least it would be a different outcome from the original and at this point Thomas would take it gladly, even if it wasn’t the Golden Warp he desperately craved. 

“Well...maybe your next Warp will be Golden, Thomas.” Joan said, squeezing his shoulder. “This Green streak has to be coming to an end.” 

Thomas shrugged off their hand, pushing away from the wall with a bitter laugh. “You say that every single time you know and it’s been like...a millennia since I’ve had a Golden. Admit it.” He turned to them, throwing up his hands. “I’m cursed. I’m never going to see another one.” 

And it sucked. Knowing he was Stuck. Never again being able to contribute to another major shift in the world since his last perfect Golden Warp. A Warp where an idealistic explorer had used his last decision to continue sailing across the Atlantic ocean... and ended up discovering America. 

The choice had changed the entire world...and apparently Thomas’s luck with it. He went from flying high at the top of the leaderboard to the middle of the pack within fifty years as he went longer and longer without another Golden Warp. And with the others continuously accruing more and more Goldens...he only continued to drop further down in the running. 

Joan exhaled, shaking their head, the sparkling color of their opal skin swirling to highlight the greens and oranges. “Five hundred years isn’t a millennia, Thomas.”

“Five hundred and twenty-six years, Joan.” He said flatly, flopping back onto the couch, covering his eyes with an arm. “No one else has ever gone this long without a Golden. No. One.” 

Calypso had been the last Time Genie who’d suffered from a ‘long’ Green streak and she’d broken it after a single decade. TEN. Freaking. Years. The longest Green streak ever recorded before Thomas had knocked it out of the park had been a measly hundred and forty-nine years and Kenny had celebrated for two months straight when that Golden mark had appeared next to his name.

“Alright...maybe you’re a little bit cursed.” Joan allowed, pushing Thomas’s feet so that they could sit down. 

“Just only a lot.” Thomas ran a hand down his face, exhaling. “What about yours?” He asked in a low voice, closing his eyes. “You any closer to beating out Talyn as Numero Uno?” 

Joan snorted, resting an arm on Thomas’s knees. “Hardly. Mine was a Blue today.” Thomas could hear the smile in their voice. “They’re on quite the roll aren’t they?” 

“Oh no, not at all.” He responded sarcastically, lightly prodding Joan with his foot. “Only nearing their two thousandth Golden in a row and managing to win my best friend’s heart in the process.” He yelped as Joan shoved him off the couch, hitting the rainbow floor with a thud. “Hey!” 

“Whoops.” 

“Don’t whoops me, you did that on purpose.” 

“Had to get you off your Golden soap box somehow.” Joan replied, sliding off the couch and onto him. 

“It was the couch, and I was trying wasn’t I?!” Thomas groaned, struggling under Joan’s weight. “Get off already! You’re crushing my lungs!” 

Joan only made themself more comfortable. “Oh yes, bringing up the top of the leaderboard totally--”

Thomas gave up pushing at Joan, instead resting his head back on the red stripe of the rainbow floor, staring up at the opalescent ceiling. “I brought up Talyn and was going to segway into convincing you to tell me about your date, but you hardly gave me the chance there did you?” 

“Next time try starting with ‘How did your date go, Joan?’ It will probably work a lot better.” 

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Duly noted.” He shoved halfheartedly at them, already knowing that unless his best friend decided to move, he would be stuck acting as a cushion. “So? You going to tel--” He cut off as a wave of rainbow colors raced up and down his body. Seriously?!

Joan’s eyebrows shot up, their own opalescent skin shimmering yellow and blue. “Already?” They asked, lifting themself back onto the couch. “Didn’t you just get back from a Warp?” 

Thomas let out a moan, running a hand through his hair. Great. More bad luck. His watch had managed to find a candidate before he could properly unwind from the latest disappointment. “Yes.” He pushed to his feet, brushing off his uniform. He hated working doubles. 

“Call out sick.” 

“Oh yes, that totally will work because we Time Genies get sick sooo often.” Like never. Thomas offered Joan a tight smile. “I’ll be fine.” Probably. Maybe this human wouldn’t be so obsessed over lost love like Becca had been. No...with his luck this human would be obsessed with getting rich, or maybe finding fame. Probably both. 

“You sure?” They asked, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t have to answer right away you know.” 

Thomas shrugged. He could wait. Listen to Joan talk about their date with Talyn and watch them turn all fiery pink and gold over it, but why let the Warp hang over his head like this? The sooner he got this next Green Warp out of the way the quicker he could retake possession of his watch, lock it up for a week, and be able to listen to his best friend with his full focus. 

“You know what they say, Joan.” He reached for the ripple of time that would take him to his new Warping buddy. “There’s no rest for the wicked.” He winked, giving a two finger salute to them as he vanished from the Commons.


	2. A Blast from the Past

The Phantom reached out to the retreating figures of Christine and Raoul as they vanished in the distance. _“You alone can make my soul take flight.”_ He sang softly, his chest tight with wistful longing. He slumped as he turned to the shadowy figures of the audience arrayed before him, searching the darkness while the music swelled. His hand clenched. _“It’s over now the Music of the Night!”_ His voice rang out, echoing through the room, strong, mournful and clear. 

Bowing his head, the Phantom turned away from the darkness and shuffled over to the large throne that overlooked his ‘kingdom’ below the opera house. He sank into it with a defeated sigh and reached up, pulling a large drape hanging from the back of the chair over him, hiding himself from the world. 

With quick practiced movements of having done this a thousand times, Roman slid open the secret compartment in the seat of the throne and slipped inside. He pulled out the mask hidden there, his heart rate picking up as it always did as he ensured the Phantom’s mask was securely placed on the seat. The timing had to be perfect. Move too slowly and Meg would reveal him halfway through the chair instead of the mask when she pulled away the drapery hiding him from the audience. 

Satisfied that the mask wouldn’t fall, Roman dropped through the open trap door hidden underneath the chair and landed lightly on the mat below. Brushing off his slacks, Roman took a step closer to the orchestra placed on the other side of the wooden boards, listening as the last refrain of the violins rang through the air. 

A heartbeat of silence. And then. Roman grinned, lifting his head, his eyes closing as the wave of thunderous applause washed over him. No matter what anyone said. Nothing would ever beat that sound. Nothing. 

Eyes flashing open, he darted through the underbelly of the stage and up the stairs to join the rest of the cast as they lined up to take their final bows.

Roman couldn’t help but grin widely when his turn came. The applause only swelling as he stepped out to join his castmates, raising his hands to the audience who were all now standing on their feet as he took his final solo bow. 

It was the gap between heads in the front row that caught his attention as he bent himself in half. Of course, there were always people in the audience who didn’t stand at the end of the performance, but the front row? Unheard of. What sort of person would choose front seats and then not sta--

That’s when he focused in on them. The sunglasses. Roman’s breath caught as familiar yellow smiley faces painted on the lenses flashed under the house lights. The man seated in the wheelchair wearing them clapped like there was no tomorrow, a huge hundred watt grin on his face.

_Patton._

Roman straightened from his bow, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him. Only his skills as a master actor kept the smile on his face as he numbly took a step back, Christine and Raoul slipping their hands into his as they and the rest of the cast took their final group bow.

Roman’s eyes never left the figure as he again bowed. Patton. It had to be him. Even though the man in the wheelchair, with his short hair and subdued plain black tux, hardly looked like his High School Best Friend, Roman would know that brilliant smile underneath those sunglasses anywhere. 

His heart jumped into his throat, pounding in a frantic drumbeat as Raoul and Christine pulled him back so that the curtain could fall across the stage, cutting off his view of the man in the wheelchair. Patton. He hardly heard the applause of the audience petering out a minute later as he stared at the red fabric. 

Normally Roman would have mourned that moment. Especially on nights like tonight when it was his final performance in a role.

But that was currently the furthest thing from his mind. 

Patton. A million questions rushed through his mind. What was he doing here?! He hadn’t seen his best friend since graduation when Roman had flown straight to New York to attend college...and barely ever returned home to Florida to visit. Was Pat going to stick around and try to see him? Was he going to just leave without saying a word? 

His chest went tight. No way. Roman wouldn’t let that happen. He whirled away from the curtain, only to be caught off guard as the rest of the cast mobbed him in a giant group hug, their laughter and sobs intermingled with congratulations.

_“We’re going to miss you.”_

_“Can’t believe this is it.”_

_“You ended it on such a fantastic note.”_

_“I haven’t heard the audience so loud.”_

_“You nailed it, Roman!”_

Roman gave a laugh, trying to edge himself out of the mass hug. “Come on guys. You know it’s a group effort here.” Just because he was the Lead didn’t mean that the others weren’t just as important and he would continue to tell them so. Later. After he found Patton. But no matter how he moved, the cast continued to surround him. 

_“You know we won’t find another Phantom like you.”_

_“I still can’t believe you’re leaving us for the big screen.”_

_‘It won’t be the same at all here.”_

“Really guys.” He shook his head as he shuffled through the never ending merry-go-round of people swirling around him, his heart sinking with every second of delay. 

Patton had probably already left. He was probably in the foyer, heading out the front doors. He was missing his chance! 

Roman kept the smile on his face with effort. “You know this isn’t goodbye forever.” He reassured them. “I’ll be back with you all on stage before you know it.” But if he missed out on seeing Patton then it would be forever before he’d again get the chance to---

The voices of his cast members faded from Roman’s hearing as the side door opened, allowing two figures to slip inside. Roman froze, breath catching in his throat as the lights backstage caught those familiar yellow smiley faces on the sunglasses. They flashed in time with the large golden metal stars hooked onto the wheels of the man’s wheelchair as they spun, nearly blinding him. 

If Roman hadn’t recognized the sunglasses before now, there was definitely no mistaking those stars. How could he when he’d been the one who’d made them back in high school as a present? 

The woman who pushed Patton backstage looked up, bangs falling into her eyes as she flashed Roman a smile when she noticed him staring. She bent down to whisper into Pat’s ear, squeezing his shoulder.

Patton straightened, his own smile only at fifty watts now as he lifted his hand in quick wave in Roman’s direction. 

“Excuse me.” Roman said, interrupting his castmates. “One sec.” He pushed through them, ignoring the questions of what was happening as he broke free of the mob. His heart again took up its hammering within his chest. “Patton!” He called out breathlessly. It was him! He was here! He hadn’t left!

The tension in the man’s shoulders faded and his hundred watt smile once more lit up the entire room.   
“Hey there, Princey.” He greeted, adjusting his sunglasses, briefly showing the partial scar over his nose that Roman knew all too well extended over his eyes. “Long time no see.” 

Of course Patton would greet him with a blind joke. Roman snorted, dropping to his knees to grab Pat's hands. “I haven’t been called Princey in years.” 

Patton laughed too, leaning forward in his chair as he tugged Roman into a hug. “Come on, Big Star. You know I prefer hugging to handshakes.” 

He knew that, but it had been forever since they’d seen each other. A lot could have changed. A lot had changed after the accident that had left Patton blind and partially paralyzed. “And you know I’m sweaty from the performance, Pat, I hardly smell the best at the moment.” That didn’t stop Roman from hugging him back. He’d missed these. Patton’s hugs couldn’t compare. 

He grunted as Patton squeezed him tighter. 

“That’s never stopped me before.” He whispered before he pulled back, wrinkling his nose. “But you are right, Ro. You reek.” 

“Hey!” Roman ran a hand through his damp hair as he straightened. “I did warn you.” 

“Mmm,” Patton rubbed his nose. “But memory doesn’t do the smell justice.” He held out his hand, a slight tremble to it. “Umm...mind if I--” A faint pink tinge came to his cheeks. 

“You want to see how I changed?” Roman asked with a fond smile, remembering the first time his friend had asked and how awkward it had felt to guide Patton’s hand to his cheek. It was more natural now. Now that Roman had matured a bit more.

Patton ducked his head, blushing harder. “I--yes.”

Roman chuckled, holding still as his best friend carefully moved both hands over his face. “I’m not the only one who’s changed, you know.” He commented.

His best friend paused before giving a half smile. “You meaning the hair or the suit?” 

“Both. Though the suit was more surprising.” While he missed Patton’s wavy hair, the short haircut was probably easier for him to maintain. The suit though, Patton had always favored a multitude of colors. Now it looked like he was attending a funeral.

Patton bit his lip. “Ha, I honestly thought you wouldn’t recognize me. Let alone see me among all those people, but Ellyn tells me that your eyes never left me during the final bow--” He frowned as his fingers ran over the ridges on the right side of Roman’s face. 

“Stage makeup, Pat, for the Phantom’s scars.” Roman reassured him. “And I…” He exhaled. “I wouldn’t have known it was you were it not for your glasses.” He tapped the frames. “Still rocking the smiley faces even after all this time.” 

“Ah.” Patton relaxed, giving a quiet chuckle as he adjusted the frames with one hand, the other still resting on Roman’s fake scars. “You know I love rocking the happy, but I am glad to hear that you haven’t been attacked by a Dragonwitch, Princey.”

Another term he hadn’t heard in years. “Please, she could never harm me.” Roman scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “A manticore-chimera on the other hand….mmmm possibly.”

Patton tilted his head. “Is that the villain in your movie?” 

“No--” Roman blinked. “Wait, how did you--” 

Pat dropped his hands, shrugging sheepishly. “We,” he gestured behind him to the woman. “Ellyn and I, ran into your parents a couple of weeks back. They mentioned you’d landed a part in a movie and I--I wanted to hear you sing on Broadway before you left to film in London.” 

“So I bought tickets, and here we are.” The woman, Ellyn, said with a shy smile. “I’m glad you saw him, Roman. Pat here was convinced you wouldn’t remember him. Practically had to disable his brakes to drag him back here to see you when I realized you’d recognized him.” 

“El!” Patton hissed, flushing scarlet. 

She smirked, eyes twinkling. “But it’s about time I got my big brother out here for a visit, he’s such a homebody nowadays, so thanks for the opportunity to get him out of the house.” 

A homebody? That didn’t sound like Pat. He’d always been such the adventurer before the accid---Roman blinked staring at the woman as the pieces came together. He shook his head, not quite believing what he was seeing.This was Pat’s baby sister? No way. She’d been like twelve last time he’d seen her. “Uhh..you’re welc--” he frowned. “Wait! Are you serious, Pat?” Roman grabbed his best friend’s hands. “Me? Not want to see you? Give me a break!” 

“I did.” Patton mumbled, lowering his head further. 

Roman tensed, letting out a slow breath before running his thumbs over the back of Patton’s hands. Alright. He deserved that. He hadn’t exactly tried to reach out since graduation and he regretted it even more now. Did he even have the right to consider Patton his best friend anymore? “Just because I’m living the life acting on Broadway, doesn’t mean I’m too busy to see you.” He said, quietly. 

He should have made the effort sooner to come back home to Florida and visit a little more often, to not let their friendship fade away to nothing. “We could even go do something right now--”

“Are you going to dilly dally here all night, Sanders?” A woman’s voice demanded from behind him. “Or are you going to let me and my crew reset the stage?” 

Roman grimaced. Of course. Interrupted again. “One sec.” He said to Patton, squeezing his hand once more before letting go. He stood, turning to face his Technical Director with the brightest smile he could manage. “And here I thought you were looking for a bit of rest tonight, Reese, my darling.” He said, giving her a bow. “It is my last night after all.” 

She rolled her eyes, somehow managing to give the impression that she was towering over him despite being a head shorter. “Dude, it may be your last day, but it’s not mine. MOVE.” She lightly shoved him, mouth quirking in an almost smile. “I’ve got a job to do, and you got clothes to change out of and an after party to get to.” Her eyes darted Pat and Ellyn as she added in an undertone. “Break it up, Romeo. Your demon coffee boy is destroying your dressing room as we speak.”


	3. Chair Legs and Roses

Of course he was. Roman exhaled, pinching his nose as he briefly closed his eyes. “What else is new?” He muttered. That made this like, what? The seventeenth time?

“That your coffee boy is...a demon?” Patton asked from behind. 

Roman lifted his head, not surprised that Pat had heard that. His hearing had gotten much more acute once he lost his eyesight. He smirked turning to his best friend. “Nah, I’ve had him checked, he lacks the horns and tail.”

Reese crossed her arms, glancing to Patton with a frown. “You should check him again.” she said in a more normal tone. “He’s conjured knives this time.” 

Oh. Roman clicked his tongue. Okay, that was slightly more serious. 

She raised her eyebrow. “You do know what that means, Sanders.” She said, holding out her hands. His phone rested in one, the other held a length of ribbon that trailed through her fingertips as a pendant in the shape of a crown resting on her palm, glimmering under the lights. 

“It means….” Patton asked, leaning forward in his wheelchair. 

Roman plucked his crown necklace from her hand. “It means, he’s breaking his parole...and I can’t have that.” He said, taking his phone and pocketing it before he lifted his hands to tie the pendant in place. Not after all the cajoling and bribing Roman had gone through in the past couple of months to convince that Parole Officer, Picani, to let him leave the country. 

Patton sat back, paling. “Oh.” 

Roman exhaled. Yah, that was the reaction most people had when they found out he had an ex-con working for him. He paused as Ellyn gasped. 

“Is that?!” She grabbed onto Patton’s shoulder, shaking it as she stared at Roman's neck. “Patton! IT IS!”

Roman raised an eyebrow. What was--Oh. The lightbulb clicked. “You mean the necklace?” He asked, pulling the ribbon away from his neck. 

“The _Crown_ necklace!” 

Patton inhaled sharply, nearly falling out of his wheelchair as he thrust out his hand. “Seriously? You...I can’t believe it. You still have it?” He asked, his voice wobbling. 

“Have it? He almost never takes it off.” Reese responded with some amusement as Roman gently set the pendant down on Patton’s hand. “He never would if it didn’t clash with most of his roles.” 

That was true. He’d had to replace the ribbon multiple times from wearing it out, but the crown remained the same. “Well...I gotta keep my happy thoughts close, right, Pat?” He asked, quietly. “A little fame doesn’t change that.” He licked his lips, butterflies fluttering in his chest as Patton felt over the crown, pausing at the small latch that hid the flashdrive within. 

It had been a gift from his best friend, a special commission to celebrate Roman getting his first small role as the Wizard in the _Wizard of Oz_ in their Sophomore year and had quickly become his trademark piece to wear, though only a handful of people knew about the flashdrive hidden within that safekept the happy memories Roman treasured most. Reese being the most recent to know as he’d asked her to guard it with her life while he was on stage. 

Speaking of his Technical Director. Reese snapped her fingers in front of his face, drawing him out of memory land. “Earth to Sanders. The chit chat and such is nice and all but you have this Dressing Room. Being Destroyed. By your Coffee Boy. Ringing any bells?” 

Patton drew the crown to his heart, giving Roman a watery smile, “Right.” He whispered. He shook his head, clearing his throat. “Ummm.” He brushed under his sunglasses. “Y-you said...you had a demon to handle?” He asked, reluctantly holding out the necklace. 

Unfortunately. “I do.” Roman exhaled, mentally cursing the guy. Why now did he have to have one of his freakouts? When had he even shown up? He’d been MIA the entire day. 

Roman took the ribbon, quickly tying it around his neck, pressing the cool metal against his throat out of habit to ensure it was in place. 

“Before he terrorizes the rest of the costuming department would be nice.” Reese blandly added. 

Roman rolled his eyes. “Yah, yah.” He was on it. He just wanted to--

They all winced as an enraged roar reached their ears, followed by a girl’s scream and the sound of shattering glass. 

He groaned. That definitely wasn’t good.

Patton offered him an encouraging smile. “Sounds like they need a hero, Ro.” 

Roman ran a hand through his hair. “Right.” If only he didn’t have to be one at this moment. He bent down, pecking Patton’s cheek. “Talk soon.” He promised, taking off at a run down the hall to his dressing room. 

A brief glimpse of their Costumer, Liv, being consoled by his co-lead, Callie as he ran by clued Roman into the source of the scream. Liv had probably come to take his Phantom costume and encountered---Roman ducked just in time to avoid his head being taken off by a glass vase full of red roses as it shattered against the wall.

Roman tsked, giving the broken remains of four other vases on the floor the barest of glances before he turned to face his dressing room and the angry occupant within. “Seriously, Logan? I liked that one.” He twisted to the side, avoiding another vase full of roses; this one accompanied by a knife that embedded itself into the frame next to his ear. 

Before Roman could fully straighten, his coffee boy threw himself at him, a guttural scream of rage assailing his senses as Logan went straight for the gut, his fists swinging, the large black LOGIC tattooed over his left eyebrow standing out in stark relief against his flushed face.

Always with the punching. Roman caught one of Logan’s swinging fists by his 221Bee tattooed wrist and pulled him off balance into his chest so that the second punch went wide. “Pinned yah.” Roman said into his ear as he twisted the coffee boy so his arm was pressed against his back. 

Logan thrashed, throwing his head backwards, nearly smashing Roman’s face.

He jerked his head to the side, neatly avoiding receiving a broken nose. “Not the face!” Roman hissed, the two of them stumbling backwards as Logan fought to free himself, heedless of the risk of dislocating his shoulder. 

“SCREW YOUR UGLY FACE!” Logan roared, one foot managing to snake behind Roman’s ankle.

Shoot. Roman cried out as the two of them fell onto the floor, the impact jarring his grip on the coffee boy as shards of glass dug into his skin through his thin costume. “Ow. Dude!” 

He choked on the rest of his sentence, gasping for breath as Logan used his free elbow to jab it into Roman’s stomach.

Logan pulled free from his slackened grip, twisting like a cat to stay on top of Roman, keeping him pinned against the glass strewn floor. “Screw you and YOUR FILTHY LIES!” He yelled, his long dark greasy hair falling in front of his cracked glasses as he swung for the face. 

Roman again jerked his head away from the punch, wincing on Logan’s behalf as his fist smacked into the wood by his ear. That had to hurt though Logan showed no sign of feeling it as he pulled back his glass covered fist to hit him again. 

“Lies?” He grabbed Logan's shoulders and surged upright, knocking his coffee boy back before he could land the punch. The two of them rolled over the shredded flowers, thorns and glass digging into their skin as Logan struggled to keep the upper hand. “Since. When. Did. I. Lie?” Roman demanded, throwing Logan off of him and into his tornado wreck of a dressing room. 

He pushed to his feet, ignoring the multitude of stinging cuts burning like fire over his back and arms as he advanced, pulling the door shut with a loud bang behind him. There was no need for the entire theater to witness this if Logan's beef was with Roman himself. 

Logan whirled, a broken chair leg in his hands, his long hair tangled with petals and glass. “About Everything.” He ground out.

Roman raised an eyebrow, grabbing a mock sword from its place hanging by the door. “Falsehood. I've lied about nothing.” 

His eyes flashed behind his cracked lenses. “That's MY WORD!” He rushed Roman with his makeshift weapon. 

“Really?” Roman parried the chair leg, nearly managing to knock it out of his coffee boy’s hands. “Why don't you use your words then?” He asked as Logan recovered, again clashing with Roman’s blade. “Why now am I now a liar after telling you eleven months ago on that street corner that my word is my bond?” 

He wasn't one to give false hope. Especially not to Logan with his criminal history and major trust issues. 

Logan whirled, his makeshift sword dipping away from Roman's blade to whack him hard in the side. _“I'm not going to leave the state.”_ Logan said, perfectly mimicking Roman’s voice. 

It sent a shiver down his spine. He hated it when his coffee boy did that. 

Logan bared his teeth. _“You'll have a permanent job with me.”_ He continued, jerking the chair leg up, nearly clipping his chin with the broken end before Roman was able to bring his sword around to block it.

“You. Led. Me. On!” Logan snarled in his normal voice, his arms blurring with the force of his attacks that Roman couldn’t fully avoid. “You had me believing like a fool you'd be filming here in New York City with all that 'research’ you've been doing. Only for your stupid script.” One hand twitched, a gleaming knife appearing briefly in his fingers before he flung it at Roman's vanity without looking, the blade embedding itself into the scattered pages of the filming schedule for _The Haunting of Anxiety._ “Shows that filming begins _Monday_ in _Lon._ ” He smacked Roman’s sword. _“don.”_ Roman’s blade twisted free, landing on the floor with a clatter. _“En.”_ Logan shoved him against the wall, broken point of the chair leg digging into his throat. _“Gland.”_


	4. A Cursed Day

Roman let a slow breath, careful to not jab himself further on the broken chair leg. He met Logan’s shimmering reddened eyes. He hadn’t wanted him to find out like this. “Logan.” He said, slipping a hand into his pocket.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Logan demanded, a tremor running up his arm as he pressed the broken tip against Roman’s neck. “Or were you planning for me to show up one day and find you gone?” 

_“Roman.”_ Another’s voice rang in the air, followed by a sigh. 

Logan stiffened, turning to Roman’s phone as he held it up. “Pic.” He whispered, staring at the small screen.

_“You know my reluctance to allow Logan to leave the city.”_ Picani continued in the voicemail. _“Let alone the state.”_

Logan flinched, his knuckles going white on the chair leg. They both knew that Logan had quite the volatile nature. It made sense that Picani wanted him to stick close to familiar ground so he wouldn’t end back up in prison. 

_“But….it’s undeniable that the result of your fusion into Logan’s life this past year has only been positive for him. So…”_ Picani gave a light chuckle. _“Congrats. You’ve convinced me. Logan will be able to go to England with you. I’ve got it all worked out with the authorities over there. I just need both of you in my office tomorrow morning to finish the paperwork and establish his new boundaries for your jaunt across the pond. Let me know if 11 works for you both. Toodles!”_

Roman slowly lowered the phone.

Logan had gone as still as a statue, hardly appearing to breathe as his glazed eyes stared at nothing.

“I figured you’d vanish the moment you heard the location was England, thinking I would leave you high and dry.” Roman said, quietly. “I’ve been working to convince Picani to let you come from the very moment I signed.” 

He’d wanted to spare Logan the stress of not knowing whether or not he’d be given approval to leave the country. He hadn’t wanted him to give up hope before they got the official word. However, staring at Logan's bloodshot eyes and the deep bags under them...perhaps it would have been better if he'd been told right away. 

“He called during this morning’s run through.” Roman continued, keeping his voice low as Logan remained still. “If you had been here, you would have known hours ago.” Instead of finding out like this.

“H-hours.” Logan stuttered, inhaling shakily. His wavered in place, shoulders slumping as he pulled the broken table leg from Roman’s neck, letting it drop to the floor with a loud clatter. “I screwed up.” He whispered, staring at nothing as he stumbled backwards, collapsing with a thump onto the half shredded lounging couch. “Oh, CROFTERS!” He buried his head in his blood streaked hands. “Today’s still cursed. I FREAKING SCREWED IT UP!” 

That...wasn’t quite the reaction he’d expected Logan to have after hearing the news. “Screwed up? Hardly.” Just because Logan had been late _again_ and destroyed his dressing room _again_ and attacked him _again_ , and, of course, forgot the coffee he was supposed to be bringing _again_...didn’t mean that Roman was going to leave him high and dry at yet another bump in the road. 

He could see the ex-con was improving. Picani even admitted it and Roman was going to continue that uphill trudge whether or not Logan decided to come with him to England.

Roman pushed away from the wall, feeling the puncture in his neck, just under the crown pendant as he moved to the vanity to grab the first aid kit. His fingers came away red and he winced as the cool metal edge of the crown brushed up against the wound.

Logan curled over his knees, shaking his head. “Screwed it up. Cursed. Today’s always cursed.” He rambled, rocking slightly. “Cursed. Cursed. All ruined!” 

Roman frowned. Okay. He’d seen Logan as a lot of things over the past year, but never vulnerable like this. 

He placed the first aid kit on the couch and knelt in front of his coffee boy, ignoring the stinging in his knees. “Lo?” He asked, cautiously shortening the name as his hand hovered above Logan’s head. “Why is today cursed?” 

Only a whimper met his question. 

Roman pursed his lips, eyes creasing. “Alright...you... don’t have to answer that.” He said, pulling the first aid kit towards him. He shouldn’t be surprised Logan refused to tell him. The guy was remarkably tight lipped when it came to his backstory. And this definitely had the feel of a backstory to it. 

“How about I focus on bandaging that hand instead?” He asked, brushing Logan’s bloody hand with a feather light touch, unsurprised when Logan jerked it out of sight. He exhaled. “Dude, it’ll get infected if you leave the glass in there.” 

“Prison.” 

Roman raised an eyebrow. “Huh?” 

“Today’s cursed.” Logan repeated into his knees, his voice cracking. “Treat it and I’ll end up in Prison. I always end up back there. Today’s cursed. Everything leads back to prison today. Always does. Always will. I shouldn’t--shouldn’t have come here.” 

Roman clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “...Okay...you may believe that...but it’s really doubtful, Lo….ah, Gan. Logan.” Roman said, shifting to sit next to his coffee boy on the torn lounge. “I mean, I don’t know what you were doing earlier,” Besides not being where he was supposed to be. “But this little fight isn’t going to send you to prison.” 

“It will.”

“It won’t.” Roman flipped open the first aid kit. Logan hadn’t been back to prison since he’d made him his coffee boy. He intended to keep it that way.

Logan hunched tighter in on himself, breath hitching. “I screwed up.” 

Roman huffed, very carefully laying a hand on his shoulder. “Like you haven’t done that before and look, you’re still here and decidedly not in prison.” 

“Yet.” 

“Ever if I can help it.” Roman trailed his fingers down Logan’s arm. “Come on, big guy.” He soothed, eyes intent on his posture. “Sun’s getting real low.” 

A rumble emanated from his curled form. “I. Am. Not. The. Hulk.”

Roman’s mouth quirked. Well that was a good sign at least. “If you say so, Logan. But Hulk doesn’t let me treat his injuries. Logan Banner does.” He tugged gently at his coffee boy’s arm, glad that this time there was no resistance as he pulled the injured hand out of hiding. 

With a pair of tweezers from the first aid kit, Roman carefully pulled the glass shards from Logan’s knuckles, keeping his grip on the tattooed wrist firm to prevent him from pulling away before he was finished. Humming _catch a falling star_ under his breath as he worked, Roman watched his coffee boy from the corner of his eye as Logan slowly relaxed. 

“I’m not Banner.” 

Roman jerked at the unexpected voice, wincing as Logan bit off a curse. “Sorry.” He apologized, dropping the glass shard into the tin, dabbing at the blood. He hadn’t expected him to talk. “You’re not?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as Logan tilted his head, the large LOGIC tattoo stark confronting him as the eye underneath the mark, opened to stare directly at him through the cracked lens.

“Bruce Banner has seven PhDs.” 

“...And?” Roman asked, returning his attention to cleaning the cuts, ensuring they were clear of glass. 

Logan winced, hand twitching. “I...” He buried his head back in his knees. “I never--.” He shuddered. “--Never even got an Associates.” 

Roman paused in wrapping Logan’s hand, lifting his head to stare at his coffee boy. “You….” He frowned. That didn’t seem right. “How come?” 

“Prison happened.” 

Roman grimaced. Right. He probably could have put that together if he’d given himself a second more to think. He let go of Logan’s hand as he finished the wrap. “It happened….in college? What did you do? Chain yourself to an old tree?” 

Logan clenched his hand, pulling it back to his chest. “Got stupid roommates.” 

Roman snorted. “We all had those, but I don’t see how--” 

Logan uncoiled from the couch, holding himself tightly as he moved away from Roman, pacing the room. “I was sick. Trying to study. Get into my program. They were...obnoxious. Said they could help. With studying. But.” He growled, flexing his hand. “They---They overdosed me with Nyquil to get me to ‘relax.’”

Roman raised his eyebrows. “...Nyquil?” He had to admit, that was a new one. 

“I---” Logan shook his head. “I don’t--The effects--” He shuddered. “They say I threw the TV out the window. They say I punched some guy for singing. They say I fought the police when they came. That I toppled one of the campus statues. That I broke a dude’s arm at the jail. They say---alot about that night.” 

Logan hunched his shoulders, chest heaving as his stringy hair fell in front of his face. “I--I don’t re….remember it. Nothing. I’ve tried. It’s blank. I woke up chained to a wall with this stupid LOGIC engraved on my face.” He gestured to the tattoo. “With fists bruised and bloody, and with every criminal and officer in the county jail against me. Terrified of me. I…” 

He paused in front of the vanity, chest heaving as he fought to gather himself. “Seven years ago today...I woke up…” He looked up, barely looking at his reflection before he turned to Roman, tears shimmering behind his broken glasses. “To my worst nightmare.”


	5. Recollection

A chill went through Roman. _It couldn’t be._ His hand rose to touch the corner of his eye, feeling the bruise that hadn’t been there in...had it been seven years now? 

He swallowed, dropping his hand, rising to his feet as he tried to fit the wiry Logan standing before him with the scrawny nerd who’d given him a black eye in his third year of college. He couldn’t see it. Only maybe the glasses. Those could be the same. 

His heart thudded heavily in his chest. But Logan had mentioned the singing. Roman had been singing, refusing to be silenced when he’d been punched. 

It was just... _What were the odds?_ How likely was it the timeline would fit? The shattered TV in the courtyard. The broken statue out front. His _blackened eye._

And….the police. Roman had called the police on the kid because he’d been furious about the black eye. Because he’d thought it would ruin his chances at his audition the next day. To think--- “It-” He coughed, trying to clear the lump from his throat. “But you explained. The Roommates. The drugging--”

Logan’s mouth twisted, a bitter laugh escaping him as he picked up the knife from the vanity. He snapped the blade shut, the weapon disappearing from sight with a twitch of his fingers. “They didn’t believe me. Who goes crazy and takes out a dozen men after taking Nyquil?” He shook his head. “I was sentenced to prison. Got out in two years…” he exhaled. “And have been in and out since. You can’t…” He leaned against the desk, head bowed. “You can’t just pick up your life like nothing happened. Schools won’t take you. Jobs don’t want you. Not without a degree. Not with a criminal history. People don’t treat you the same.” He brushed the LOGIC tattoo with the tip of his finger. “When you’re treated like a threat instead of a person…” He looked up, eyes dull. “You become what they fear.” He whispered. “Because they won’t let you be anything else.” 

Roman wasn’t one to be at a loss for words. But right now? “Logan.” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. How could he admit he was-- How could you say anything after hearing that? After realizing. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to speak over the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry, Lo--”

Logan raised an eyebrow, eyes glittering as he focused on Roman. “For what?” He asked, pushing away from the vanity. “Being the only one to give me a chance….more than once...uhmm.” He licked his lips, lowering his head as he fiddled with the bandages on his hand. “You….you were serious about London...and….and me...coming?” 

Roman raised his head, shoving down the leadened feeling in his chest in favor of reassuring his coffee boy. He called a smile onto his face as he spread his arms out wide. “Of course! I’m going to show you Baker Street and everything Sherlock while we’re there. I have it all planned out, down to buying you a deerstalker to match your bee tattoo.” And if he could, he’d do everything in his power to make it up to Logan for...for calling the police, for not realizing. He’d have to tell Logan...but when--how?? He...he would need to figure it out. 

Logan glanced at his wrist, his mouth twisting into a near smile. “That’s so idiotic.” 

Roman blinked, crossing his arms. “Oh, come on, Logan.” He tilted his head, wiggling his eyebrows. You know you want the hat.” 

Logan shook the hair out of his eyes. “I do. Doesn’t mean it’s not stu--” He cut off as a triple rap sounded on the door. He stiffened, eyes going wide. “P-p-police?” He stuttered, the color draining from his face as he stumbled back, rattling the vanity as he slammed into it. 

Roman was at his side before the mirror stopped shaking, a careful hand resting on his bandaged wrist. “Whoa, whoa. Hey, hey.” He soothed as the triple rap sounded again. How had Logan even managed to come into the theater today if he was _this_ paranoid about getting arrested again? “It’s fine, Lo. It’s just Reese. That’s her knock.” 

Logan shuddered, gasping for breath as his hand spasmed under Roman’s. “She’s bro--brought--”

Roman shook his head. “No, there’s no police.” He said, keeping his tone calm. “You’re safe here. Alright? You’re safe. I’m here to ensure that. I’m not letting anyone take you away, okay? I’ll protect you from your curse.” 

Logan closed his eyes. “Wh-what does she want?” He whispered. 

Roman snorted. He would have thought that obvious. “Well...you were throwing and breaking things….” 

He flinched. “Right…” 

Roman shifted, to keep an eye on the door, squeezing Logan’s hand as he let out a two note whistle to signal to Reese she could enter. “Relax, there’s no lasting damage that can’t be replaced.” He said as the handle twisted. 

The door opened, allowing his Technical Director to slip inside, holding a white palm sized box tied with a red ribbon in one hand. Her eyes flickered around the torn up room before landing on the two of them. She shut the door behind her with a click, raising an eyebrow as focused on the mirror and their injuries reflected there. 

Roman twitched, feeling ever cut and scrape hidden behind the tears and bloodstains now marring his costume under her eagle eyed gaze. He opened his mouth, but Reese cut him off. 

“I don’t want to know.” She said, shaking her head as she stepped further in the room, pointing a finger to Roman. “But you, Sanders, need to get out your makeup and that costume before you turn it completely red. And you.” She jabbed her finger to Logan who glared at her, squaring his shoulders as he shoved away from the desk, stopped only by Roman’s hand on his arm. 

Reese met him glare for glare, her eyes dark as she gave her own feral smile. 

Roman shivered. He hated that smile. 

“You are coming with me to apologize to Liv for terrorizing her. Then I’ll have Morgan take a look at your back. Capeesh?” 

Logan bared his teeth, a rumble sounding in his throat. “No.” 

Reese rolled her eyes. “So scary, Banner. I’m quaking in my sneakers.” Her voice rang in the air, brooking no argument. “Get over here.” 

On any other night, Roman might have agreed with her. But tonight? Knowing what he did now...Roman straightened from the vanity, stepping in front of Logan as his coffee boy tensed further. “Reese...now probably isn’t the best--” 

“No time is ever ‘the best’ with your coffee boy, Sanders.” She retorted. “It’s not like I’m taking him away permanently.” She leaned around him, staring Logan down. “Hear that? Fifteen minutes. Two minute apology, thirteen minute exam, then you can skip right back in here to continue your impression of a crazed gorilla, alright?” 

Logan broke eye contact first, glancing to Roman, his face impassive, though his eyes gave lie to his fear.

As much as Roman wanted to tell his coffee boy he didn’t have to go...having Reese on their bad side wouldn’t be the best before they flew to London. She’d been quite tolerant of Logan’s...idiosyncrises on Roman’s word alone. It would be best to leave on a good note. Especially after tonight’s...tantrum. Roman gave him a confident grin. “I won’t go anywhere until you get back. So...” He tilted his head to the door. “Go.” 

Logan reached up, adjusting his glasses. “Ten minutes.” He met Reese’s eyes, his knife flickering between his fingers before vanishing again. “The dressing room next door. No further.” 

Reese tilted her head back and forth in thought. “Twelve minutes and you give me the knife.” She said, holding out her hand.

Again, the rumble emanated from Logan’s throat. “Fine.” He ground out, dropping the weapon in her open palm. 

Reese gave a curt nod, slipping the weapon into her pocket. “Good.” She turned to Roman. “Twelve minutes. I expect no makeup and the costume on the rack before I bring your coffee boy back.” She said, handing him the white box as Logan warily moved around Reese, pausing by the door, careful to keep himself facing her. 

Twelve minutes? That was hardly enough time to remove his makeup! Roman scoffed, taking the box, weighing it, thoughtfully. “What’s this?” He asked in lieu of complaining. 

“A parting gift from your friend.” She said, her tone softening a little as she turned for the door, pulling it open. She gestured for Logan to go first. “He regrets he couldn’t stay and chat longer, but the two have an early morning flight.” 

“Oh.” The smile slipped from his face, a hollow pang reverberating in his chest. Patton. He’d completely forgotten. He’d meant to come back. Meant to get his number. And now… “Right…” Roman said softly, staring down at the box. “I hope you thanked him on my behalf?” He’d have to find a way to contact Pat and thank him personally. Did he still have the same phone number...no, he’d probably changed it after all these years. 

“I did. Gave him your number even.” She smirked as he jerked his head up. “You’re welcome.” She said, slipping out into the hallway. “Remember, twelve minutes, Sanders.” She shut the door with a quiet click. 

Roman exhaled, setting the box down on top of his Anxiety script. “Right.” He pushed the scattered papers of his ‘Manhattan research’ to the side, unburying the products he needed to remove the Phantom’s scarring from his face. 

He worked quickly, pulling the scar putty off, cleaning off the stage makeup, wincing as his exposed the minuscule cuts on his face from wrestling with Logan. 

_Logan. Patton._

Roman closed his eyes, slumping in his chair. “What am I going to do?” He mumbled. 

It was like _A Christmas Carol._ Two ghosts of his past popping in out of nowhere. He shook his head, opening his eyes to stare at the picture of a bridge and an obituary on top of his pile of research. “Too bad you couldn’t be the third huh?” He remarked. 

He would have liked to meet this Virgil N. Shush, if only to get into the guy’s headspace so he could better portray his _Anxiety_ character. He probably would have fit the _Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come_ quite well from what little he’d discovered about the guy who’s script was going to make Roman a big film star. 

However... Some things just weren’t meant to be. 

Roman pushed away from the vanity, grabbing Patton’s gift as he stood. He pulled the ribbon off the box, draping it over the back of the chair, hesitating as he gripped the lid. It’d been years since he’d received a gift from his best friend. Roman licked his lips, feeling the comforting weight of the crown necklace against his throat as he opened the box. 

_Hey Princey;_ Patton’s careful penmanship stood out on the notecard sitting on top. _I hope you have the_ Time _of your life in England! <3 Patton._

Roman chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled out a large golden pocket watch out of the box, dangling it by the chain. Well that wasn’t what he expected at all. “Pat...who even uses these anymore?” He asked with a fond smile as he sat on the torn lounge couch, tracing the rose design on the outside. “Too bad I didn’t get the time to catch up with you though.” He whispered, thumb resting on the button. _If only. If only._ With a shrug, Roman popped it open with a click. 

A loud gong rang in his ears, sending a firestorm of heat racing through Roman’s body with enough force that he shot to his feet, a startled yell tearing from his throat as he frantically patted at his arms while rainbow light billowed from the watch in his hand, refracting around the room like a Las Vegas laser show. He tried to drop the watch, only to find his muscles unresponsive. 

“GO AWAY!” He yelled trying to duck away from the beams of colored light pelting him from every direction with enough force to stagger him. “What the--” He ducked his head, frantically slapping at his arms with his free hand as his skin began to glow in its own prism rainbow. What was this?! 

He winced as an angelic chorus of chimes rang in his ears, yelping again as a sharp tug came from the center of his chest. His heart beat in a frantic staccato, fighting against the unseen force pulled him from the ground, sending him flying straight into the billowing rainbow spectrum of a storm that had overtaken his dressing room like a tsunami making landfall. 

**“Roman Sanders.”** A booming voice intoned as Roman fought against the current holding him captive, his dressing room vanishing as he was dragged deeper into the rainbow hailstorm. **“Your _Time_ Has Come.”**


	6. Red Lines

Not every Time Genie enjoyed the beginning of a Warp, where you had to dip yourself into the rushing River of Time to find the one human lifeline out of billions that your device had chosen to be your Buddy. 

Thomas wasn’t one of those Genies. He’d always enjoyed moving through the currents, catching glimpses of people’s day to day lives as he headed towards the siren call of his watch, searching for the telltale golden sparks indicating he’d found the right lifeline. 

Even with the disappointment of constant Green Warps...he’d still hadn’t lost his liking for this part where he'd weave in and out of the multicolored lines. No two were exactly the same, the coloration of each one unique to the individual, each giving him hints to the type of lives they’d led to this point. 

There! Golden sparks twinkling through the rainbow timestream. His new warp. A jolt of anticipation, a series of alternating purples and greens, zipped through him as he ducked and dodged among the lifelines only to have his heart drop like an anvil at the bright crimson lifeline that confronted him, unmistakably gleaming with his watch’s mark. 

Thomas groaned, pressing the palms of his hands to his eyes. Today was not his day. Why RED? WHY! 

He should turn around and go back to Joan right now because there was no use pretending to even have a flicker of hope that this Warp would end in anything other than Green. Even before his curse had taken effect, the number of successful warps he’d had with this particular color could be counted on one hand. 

Thomas exhaled, dropping his hands to brush against the vibrant strand. Humans were tricky to work with when their lifelines were in the red. They were individuals who’d already made a mark on the world. They were Influential. Powerful. Trailblazers. One wrong decision in the warp and wham. They’re experiencing life as wallflowers in the tapestry of life. Reds never liked getting those beige threads. They were the most likely to choose to return to their original lifelines to get their fame and prestige back. 

“Why you?” Thomas muttered, holding the red line between his fingers as he separated it from the timestream in preparation to pull the human into the Warp. His eyebrows shot up. “Okay. Seriously, why you?” He asked, eyes creasing at the singular color that confronted him.

Sure, the lifeline wasn’t all the same solid shade of red. The color constantly shifted from a red so pale it was nearly pink to a red dark enough to be purple. 

At the moment, it shown a bright blood red. The shade that colored lifelines when the individual was being particularly influential on the world.

Thomas shook his head, fighting against the spark of interest flickering in his mind even as he dipped into the lifeline to see just who he was dealing with. It was uncommon for humans to stick with one color in their thread of life. Rare for that color to be red. Even rarer to have the lifeline be this vivid of a shade at the beginning of a warp. The goal was, after all, to give the person a chance to improve their lives. 

Who was this human? Why had they been chosen by his watch when they were already making an impact on the world?

_Roman Sanders._

“Huh.” Thomas tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. He’d heard of Roman before in passing while on previous warps in the States. “Why pick him?” He wondered, his confusion only growing as he skimmed through the man’s life.

He was famous of course. Red threads were in one way or another. 

In this case, it was because Roman was a well known actor currently making it big on Broadway, no...no the lifeline showed he was leaving the stage to film his first major role for a movie. 

Thomas drew the lifeline further away from the main timestream, tugging at the hazy half of Roman’s life that hadn’t yet come to pass. He shook his head as the red color continued into most of the frayed edges that split from Roman’s main line. 

He clicked his tongue. Judging from the potential paths his future could take, this movie would only make the man’s life brighter and better, his life was on the upswing….

Thomas frowned, returning to the man’s past. Most actors had black marks marring their lifeline signaling that a tragedy, heartbreak, or scandal had taken place. But again, Roman seemed to be the exception. 

At most his line had grayed out here and there, but hadn’t darkened enough to give a Time Genie cause to appear. Why then had his watch chosen--

Thomas tsked. He could look at Roman’s lifeline all day, but until he warped with the man, he wouldn’t know what past decisions weighed the most heavily on the actor’s mind. 

Letting out a breath, Thomas rolled his shoulders. Time to Warp. He brushed the golden sparks resting on Roman’s lifeline to anchor himself, his hands blazing in a rainbow prism as he grabbed the point of the lifeline marking the actor’s present moment. 

He caught a glimpse of the actor sitting in a messy dressing room as Thomas tugged at his lifeline. **“Roman Sanders.”** He called, unsurprised to have the bright line struggle in his grip as the human on the other end fought to stay on the earthly plane. 

That was a typical reaction. It wasn’t like anyone liked suddenly being pulled from one plane to the next. **“Your _Time_ Has Come.”**


	7. Memory Lane

Roman twisted, fighting against the unseen pull on his heart. He clawed through the streams of color flying past him, trying to return to the dressing room that he knew had to be just beh--Nothing. Everywhere he looked the swirling glitterstorm of reds, blues, greens confronted him, their shifting patterns forming shapes of people and places like the crazy light tunnel in Willy Wonka. 

But then like a whale breaching from the ocean, Roman broke free from the rainbow vortex of a river that had held him captive. The storm pulling back so suddenly that he staggered, the chiming in his ears changing to that of a baby’s cry as he fell to his knees, chest heaving as the pull on his heart went slack. 

_“His name is Roman.” A fond voice echoed in his ears._

Roman jerked his head up. _Mom._ He twisted on his knees, expecting her to be right there, only to be confronted with the rainbow current that had brought him to this place. It roared past him like a river nearing a waterfall, never ending, always changing. 

_“Roman.” His father warmly agreed. “A good strong name for our boy."_

_Dad._ Again, Roman spun in place, heart racing as he searched the rainbow river for either of his parents.

What was this place? Had he died? Was he dead! How---A bomb? _The watch._ Roman shoved to his feet, his heart trying to leap out of his chest as he tried to throw the thing away from him, only for the pocketwatch to remain stuck fast in his grip, his fingers frozen in place as the device pulsed like a golden strobe light. Had Patton---no. No. He couldn’t believe that. Patton wouldn’t give him a bomb. But then how--where was he?!

**“Breathe, Roman.”** A voice like an angel soothed. **“Despite how it looks, you’re not dead.”**

He whirled, raising his free hand protectively in front of him as a man, his pearly skin shimmering like a iridescent fire opal stepped further into the open space between currents he had blended so well with. 

**“Breathe.”** He repeated with a friendly smile, his hands hanging loosely by his sides, showing he was unarmed. **“You’re not in danger here.”**

_“Careful, Ro!” His father called. “Don’t climb too high!”_

_A child’s giggle came in response. “But Dadda, I wanna play on the tires!”_

Roman inhaled sharply. That was his voice! He spun, catching a glimpse of himself as a toddler, wearing faded blue overalls as he played in the rainbow current, jumping from one small tire to another before fading from view. 

For not being dead. This sure felt like it. Where else could his life literally be passing by before his eyes? Roman shook his head, deliberately exhaling before he turned back to the glowing figure, forcing a smile on his lips. 

Who was this guy? Not an angel...probably. Hopefully not a demon. But Roman wasn’t a master at Improv for nothing. He flashed the figure a smile and chuckled, spreading his hands, the chain of the pocket watch jingling softly with the movement. A watch that took him to a mysterious rainbow glowing figure…. Huh. Maybe the guy was...well one way to find out. 

“That. Was. Amazing.” Roman said, forcing himself to make eye contact as he tilted his other hand back and forth. “A bit loud on the gong admittedly, rough on the journey here, but I gotta say. You have the presentation down, Sir Genie.” 

Soft sobbing sounded from behind him and it took all he had to not turn around to see what was happening. 

_“I f-forgot t-t-the words!!” His six-year old self wailed. “H-how cou-could I have me-messed it uh-uh-up?! I lov-love tha-that song!”_

_“Oh, sweetheart.” His mother murmured. “It’s gonna be okay. Tomorrow’s performance will go better.”_

_“N-no it wooon’t!!” He wailed. “I-I’m nev-never singing AGAIN!”_

The figure raised an eyebrow, his eyes flickering to look behind Roman before focusing back on him. “I’m not a Knight.” He stated in a more normal voice, the booming echo gone. 

Roman grinned wider. He’d thrown him off his rhythm. Perfect. He took a step forward, hoping the figure wouldn’t see how his hands were shaking. “But you didn’t deny that you are a Genie.” 

The Genie blinked, mouth opening before he snapped it shut, shaking his head with a soft chuckle. “For an actor, I thought you’d be more skeptical.” 

Skeptical?! Roman scoffed, briefly touching the crown pendant, accidentally brushing the small wound just below it. Patton had shown him how to see the extraordinary in the ordinary. To believe in what couldn’t be seen.

“I’m an actor. I get paid to pretend to be someone else all day. Therefore--” He gestured to the guy’s constantly color shifting body. “I’m more inclined to want to believe in the impossible.” It was better than thinking he was dead. “Plus.” He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck, heat rushing up to his cheeks. “Aladdin is my favorite movie.”

The genie’s mouth quirked in a small smile as he crossed his arms. “But I’m not blue.”

Roman waved a hand. “Nuisances.” The guy’s feet were blue currently. It counted. 

_“Let’s splash in the ocean, Daddy!” His child self called, appearing to Roman’s right, holding out his hand. “Pllleeeeaaasseeee! Just you and me! I’ll be brave this time. I won’t scream.”_

Roman took another steadying breath, turning his head slightly to get that...memory out of his line of sight. That had been just after the rip current incident. He’d been trying to prove that he could overcome his fear of the ocean and what hid below. 

He shrugged, focusing instead on the man’s color changing skin, channeling his discomfort away as he held up the watch. “Though, please tell me.” Roman said, his fingers twitching on the device. “That you haven’t been stuck in this thing for a million years.” 

The Genie eyes went wide. “Stu--” He burst out laughing, shaking his head, visibly relaxing. “What? No! No. The watch is like a….pager.”

The tightness in Roman’s chest eased. Apparently he wasn’t the only one tense from this meetup. “A….pager?” He repeated, raising an eyebrow. Who even used those things anymore? This guy needed a serious techno upgrade with his pagers and pocket watches. 

The Genie crossed his arms. “It alerts me when I am needed.” He said, inclining his head to Roman. “Not everyone who picks up my watch gets a visit from me.”

Oh. Roman ran his thumb over the rose engraving, frowning thoughtfully as he watched more reds and greens swirl along the guy’s arms. Huh. So he’d...been chosen?

_“What’s wrong with Sir Squiggles the Brave?” Young Roman whispered, appearing behind the genie, hugging his hamster’s cage. “Why won’t he wake up?”_

Roman winced. Okay. These memories really needed to stop. “So...this watch...chose me...” He looked down, unable to keep eye contact with the genie when his younger self was standing right there staring at him with puppy dog eyes. “And brought me here...so you--you could?” Gah it was so stupid to even think--he shrugged, scuffing his foot against the flowing colors making up the floor to this odd space. “Grant me three wishes?” He asked, almost inaudibly. 

The Genie’s feet appeared in his line of vision as he laid a hand on Roman’s shoulder. “You’re quick to believe I’m a genie, yet doubt I would grant you three wishes?” He asked, gently. 

Roman looked up, fighting against the hope flaring up in his chest. “So you will?”

The colors shimmering within the genie’s skin swirled into blues and purples as he shook his head, exhaling as he took a step back. 

Roman slumped. He should have known. It was too good to be true. 

_“I don’t want to look like a freaking Beatle anymore!” Preteen Roman yelled from within the rainbow swirling around them. “I want to look like the cool kids! Not a dweeby nobody with a stupid haircut!”_

“I can’t grant you three wishes, no.” The Genie said, keeping his smile soft and understanding as Roman hunched his shoulders further. “Because my Domain is Time.” 

He smirked as Roman jerked his head up. Time? What did that mea--”

“Instead of three wishes, you get three decisions.” The Genie gestured to the rainbow surrounding him. “You have three chances to go back in time and choose again.”

_“A PUUUUPPPPPY?!” Roman squeaked, his voice cracking as he fell to his knees, a brightly colored rainbow puppy happily jumping into his arms. “You got me a PUPPY?!”_

_His parents laughed, coming into view, wide smiles on their faces. “What are you going to name him RoRo?” His mother asked._

_His younger self hugged the puppy close. “Chocolate.” He said decisively. “His name is Chocolate!”_

Roman stilled. No. Way. “Time travel?” He couldn’t believe it. “You...you’re giving me the chance...to go back in time.”

The Genie nodded, his mouth twitching into a tiny smirk. “Yes.”

“Back in time.”

“Yes.”

“Wherever I want. Whenever I want.” Roman said, a giddy rush of adrenaline racing through him. He could see it now. Visiting London and seeing Shakespeare’s plays, visiting the Library of Alexandria before it burned, or even sailing with the Vikings across the Atlantic!! 

The Genie grimaced. “Uhm.” 

Roman mentally groaned, tensing. The guy was giving him whiplash. “Uhm!? You can’t just uhm me, dude.” 

The Genie gestured to the timeline around them. “While you have been given the chance to go back in time, Roman, you are limited to only your timeline, to just your choices you have made. You’ll be unable to visit any place or affect anything that you weren’t personally involved in.”

And there went his chance to meet Shakespeare. “I should have known you’d have rules.” Roman mumbled, glancing at the golden watch. “Conditions.” It was disappointing for sure, but it made a lot of sense. Less chance to screw up the space time continuum if it was only his own life he was messing with. 

The Genie inclined his head. “Of course.”

He looked up. “I’m guessing it’s to prevent like evil from taking over the world. No paradoxes, time loops, or unraveling the very fabric of time.” 

A tremor ran through the Genie as he flashed red, orange and purple. “Not if we can help it.” He said, rubbing one hand. “The backlash of creating paradoxes and time loops is…” He winced. “quite painful.”

_“In that I disagree.” Teenager Roman said, a faint wobble in his voice as the river parted to reveal him standing at a podium, hands gripping the sides to avoid reaching up to touch his pimple-covered face. “Allocating all school funds towards sports and sciences will neglect a good third of the student body that has no interest in physical activity and doesn’t want to study periodic tables. Creative expression should not be tossed to the side like a used toy--"_

His younger self faded back into the rainbow as Roman rolled his shoulders, feeling his own array of cuts and scrapes underneath his costume. 

“Got it. No hurting the Genie.” He said, offering him a smile before glancing at the watch. “Any other rules I need to know about? Before we do this thing?” He asked, holding it out. Would it be a simple three rule thing, or would the Genie unroll a lengthy complicated scroll with a Terms and Service agreement he’d have to sign? 

Humor flashed in the Genie’s eyes as he held up one finger. “You’ve already been told one. You can only change decisions that you, yourself have made.” He said, taking a step closer to Roman, his other hand brushing at a blood red line of ribbon that wafted through the air, slightly separated from the rest of the rainbow timestream. “Two. You can’t tell anyone you’re from the future or what their future is.”

Roman nodded. Obvious rules really. “And the Thir--?”

_“PAT!! YOU FORGOT THE UMBRELLA?!” His teenage self yelled._

Roman stiffened, going pale. No. Not this memory. Not this one. 

_Roman stepped from the time stream, eyes dark under his fedora, followed closely by his best friend. “I can’t believe it. THIS IS MY FIRST MAJOR SHOW!” He threw up his hands. “Of all the times to forget--”_

_“Ro, I’m--I’m sorry!” Patton grabbed his shoulder, turning Roman to face him. “I can go---”_

“Don’t.” Roman whispered, squeezing the pocket watch as he struggled to breathe, the gap in the timestream shrinking as the rainbow current pressed in around him. Please.

An electrifying zap rushed through him as the Genie forcefully grabbed Roman by the shoulders, turning him away from the scene. **“Breathe.”** The Genie said, his body now shining like a radiant rainbow disco ball, his eyes burning gold as the river overtook them, buffeting Roman from all sides.

The genie pulled Roman’s hand up, revealing the watch shining brightly like a newborn star. **“Breathe, Roman.”** He soothed, standing steadfast as the timestream roared around them.

_“I’ll be right back.” Patton faintly called from out of the rainbow. “Fifteen minutes!”_

Roman shook his head, as he struggled to fill his lungs with air. He didn’t want to face this memory. He didn’t want to remember this! He’d worked so hard to forget it! 

The Genie gave him a small smile, his hand closing around the watch. **“You can fix it.”** He whispered. **“If you desire. The chance to change is yours.”**

A chance. Three chances. Roman grabbed the genie’s hand, squeezing it like a lifeline. “How?” He choked out. 

The Genie moved backwards, pulling Roman with him, the timestream fading away as they walked out onto a worn wooden stage. **“By changing your choice.”**


	8. The First Original Choice

_Roman leaned against the brick wall of the old theater, heart hammering in his chest as he watched the Prop Master once more walk through the different sets, searching every nook and cranny for the missing umbrella prop._

_“Come on, Pat.” He whispered, glancing at the clock on the wall. Half an hour to go. Half an hour before he would step out on the stage as Don Lockwood, singing in his first major role in the community theater’s production of Singing in the Rain._

_He swallowed, hoping that anyone who was looking at him thought he was pale from nerves. Which he was. Nerves that barely had anything to do with opening night._

_“Are you sure you haven't seen it Roman?” The Prop Master demanded, checking the boxes stacked next to him for the fourth time._

_Roman crossed his arms, masking his flinch as he rolled his eyes. “Not since yesterday, sir.”_

_Which was true. Roman hadn't seen the prop since then because he'd stupidly left it at Patton’s house the night before. He exhaled, adjusting the sleeves of the suit jacket he wore. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Practice in Patton’s large basement with the actual umbrella and hat he was using for the show so that he would know the prop’s quirks inside and out without worrying about it malfunctioning on him during tonight’s opening._

_He hadn’t thought it would be that big of a deal to slip out with it after last night’s rehearsal, because he’d planned to have both hat and umbrella back in place before the Master Costumer or Prop Master noticed they were missing._

_The Prop Master exhaled, running a harried hand through his hair. “Well, keep an eye out for it. I have Luis tracking down a spare just in case.”_

_Roman nodded, dropping his eyes. “Of course, but like I said, sir, I haven't touched it since yesterday.”_

_At least the Master Costumer hadn’t noticed the missing hat yet. She’d been busy doing last minute adjustments to the Extras’ costumes._

_He shivered, adjusting the collar of his jacket. If either of them found out he’d taken stuff home without permission. Oh man. He’d be fired for sure._

_BZZZZZZZZ_

_Roman jumped, feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket. Patton! About time! With a quick glance about to make sure no one was watching, Roman edged over to the door and leaning against it, pushed it open the barest of cracks. “Pat?” He whispered._

_“Hey, Princey.” Came the welcome voice of his best friend. “I got it!”_

_Relief washed through him. He was saved! “Thanks, buddy.” He said pushing the door wider, revealing Patton’s hundred watt smile below his curly sweat plastered hair. “I owe you one.”_

_Patton chuckled, handing over the missing fedora. “Sorry it took so long, I had to drop Ellie off at her piano lesson.”_

_Roman placed the hat on his head, adjusting the brim so it shaded his face just right. He would need it under the stage lights. “It’s fine.” Though why Patton couldn’t have come to the theater first and then dropped of his little sister was beyond him. It wouldn’t matter if Ellyn was late to her lesson, it mattered a lot of Roman wasn’t prepared for an audience of paying customers. He held out his hand. “And the Umbrella?”_

_Patton blinked, smile faltering. “Um...brella?” He whispered._

_Ice shot through Roman as his vision tunneled. No. This couldn’t be happening! He slipped through the door. “PAT!” He grabbed his best friends hands, squeezing them. “YOU FORGOT THE UMBRELLA?!”_

_Patton winced. “Oops?” He whispered._

_Roman turned away, his stomach doing flip flops. He was dead. So very dead. There wasn’t another umbrella to use! Not unless Luis worked some magic and found a spare. He was so screwed! “I can’t believe it. THIS IS MY FIRST MAJOR SHOW, PAT!” He threw up his hands. “Of all the times to forget--”_

_“Ro, I’m--I’m sorry!” Patton grabbed his shoulder, turning Roman to face him. “I can go back and grab it! It totally slipped my mind while I was getting Ellyn in the car. I know exactly where it is.”_

_Roman shook his head. “There’s barely twenty minu--”_

_“And I’ll be back in fifteen.” Patton said, making eye contact, his bright blue eyes shining. “Promise.”_

_“Y-you’re sure?” Roman whispered._

_Patton nodded. “Of course, Princey.” He whirled, taking off at a run. “I won’t let you down. I’ll be right back. Fifteen minutes!”_

_Fifteen minutes. It would be cutting it close but...Roman slipped back inside, returning to his original spot leaning against the brick wall. Fifteen minutes. He looked up, watching the clock tick the seconds by. Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen. He dropped his hand to his pocket waiting for the telltale buzz of Patton’s arrival._

_Sixteen minutes._

_Roman chewed his bottom lip. Maybe Patton had hit a couple red lights. Or got stuck in traffic._

_Eighteen minutes. He pulled out his phone, flipping it open to send a quick text to his friend._

_How hard could it be to find the umbrella? He’d left it by the front door when he’d darted out of the house to make his parents curfew._

_Twenty minutes. Roman hit dial, lifting the phone to his ear as he pushed open the door, looking outside just in case Patton had forgotten to text._

_He wasn’t there._

_The phone went to voicemail._

_“Roman Sanders, you’re on in five.”_

_No. NO he didn’t have the umbrella. Numbly Roman nodded. “Be right there.” He said, letting the door swing shut, hitting redial._

_Patton’s voicemail picked up once more._

_“Dude, I’m on in TWO minutes!” Roman hissed into the phone as he moved towards the curtain. “Where ARE YOU? Get inside as soon as you arrive alright?” He snapped his phone shut, placing it in his cubbyhole with his keys and wallet. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by it going off in the middle of the show._

_Patton had to show up soon. He promised._

_“Here.” The Prop Master shoved a cane into Roman’s hands. “Use this for now, the umbrella isn’t really needed until the rain scene.” He said, as he turned, vanishing into the semi darkness as the prelude music rang through the auditorium._

_He knew that. He’d been using the cane earlier for the dress rehearsal. Roman let out a slow breath as he took his position. He was NEVER taking props out of the theater EVER again. “Ready.” He murmured, adjusting his hat as he turned to his costar offering her a winning smile as the curtain rose._

_Despite his nerves, despite the cane, the first half went off without a hitch. Roman moved from one scene to the next with ease using every second he was off the stage to text and call Patton’s phone with his own._

_It wasn’t like his best friend to leave him hanging like this. Especially when Patton knew how important tonight was!_

_Nothing. No response._

_Had Patton gotten in trouble with his parents? Had he tried to return the umbrella and been turned away? Had his phone died? Had he been asked to pick up Ellie and decided to go do that first?_

_Roman snapped his phone shut again, shoving it back into his cubby as he was called for his last cue up before Intermission. Come on Pat. Come on! This was the rain scene. He couldn’t exactly sing ‘Singing in the Rain’ without the umbrella!_

_“Roman.” A voice hissed behind him._

_He turned in time to see the Prop Master toss the umbrella at him. He caught it, feeling the familiar weight settle in his hands. He grinned, eyes lighting up. Finally!_

_Shaking out the umbrella, Roman stepped onto the stage as the rainstorm started up. That too went off without a hitch, the umbrella performing perfectly as Roman danced and sang in the rain._

_Any thoughts of finding Patton during intermission were dashed as he was pulled in the back to get dried off, change clothes, and have his makeup reapplied. He barely had time to check his phone to see Pat hadn’t texted back before he was called onto stage for the second act._

_The final song. The final curtain call. The bowing. The audience’s applause ringing in his ears as the curtain fell. Roman turned, letting out a shaky laugh as the rest of his castmates bombarded him in a group hug. They’d done it! The first show of their run had gone off without a hitch...despite him having to use a cane for most of the first act._

_“I’ll take that.” The Prop Master stated, pulling the umbrella from Roman’s hands with a strained smile. “We wouldn’t want to lose this spare now would we?”_

_Roman froze for a second. Spare? “That’s not the original?” He asked. He could have sworn it was!_

_The Prop Master shook his head with a laugh. “No, no. Luis tracked this one down up on the catwalk off all places.”_

_“Oh.” Roman managed to get out as a chill ran down his spine. If...if that was a spare, then where was-- “Excuse me.” He said, abruptly darting away from the cast to his cubby, pulling out his flip phone._

_No messages._

_Patton._

_He lifted the phone up to his ear as he once again pressed call. Where was he?! If Patton hadn’t made the show, then what in the world had ha--_

_A click._

_“Heh-hello?” A wobbly female voice asked._

_Patton’s Mom._

_Roman swallowed, clenching the phone, pressing it against his ear. “Hey, Mrs. Hart, it’s Roman...Where’s Pat---”_

_“Oh Roman,” Patton’s mom sobbed. “Ro….”_

_Ice shot through Roman, freezing him in place. “Mrs. Hart? Is...is everything---”_

_“Pat’s in surgery.” She choked out. “He’s...he might not make it.”_


	9. Between Veil and Curtain

A long semi translucent veil hung across the stage behind the Genie as he pulled Roman up center stage, heading directly for it. 

Roman dug in his heels, pulling free from the Genie’s grip as shadowy figures appeared just beyond the veil, the muffled sound of voices ringing on the edge of recognition in his ears. 

This was crazy. This was CRAZY. Change the past?! 

“Is that…” He cleared his throat, forcefully pulling himself together. He was a professional actor! He shouldn’t let some simple voices and images from his past jar him so much. “Usually those curtains are red you know.” He remarked in a steadier voice, staring at the shimmering veil, heart pounding in his chest as he recognized one of the shadowy figures as Taz, the Prop Master. He hadn’t seen the old man in years, but it was hard to forget that particular rolling walk he had. 

The Genie raised an eyebrow, glancing behind him as he kept his hands raised, his entire body still glowing like a rainbow disco ball. “I suppose…” He smiled, shaking his head as he held out his hand for Roman to take it again. “The Veil of Time isn’t your normal set of stage curtains though.” 

Right. He kept his hand firmly down by his side as he scuffed his foot against the worn floorboards. His heart thudded in his chest as the shadowy figure of his co-star, Julia, passed close enough to the veil that he could almost make out the highlights in her hair. If he could nearly see her...how much longer before he saw himself? No. 

Roman narrowed his eyes. He remembered not coming to the curtain until the very last second, after….trying to call Pat--- He cut off the thought, forcing a smile on his face as he looked back to the Genie. 

He shrugged, gesturing with the watch to the semi-darkened theater around them. “They don’t go with the place, just saying.” Not that it really mattered. The old theater had burned down from an electrical failure the year after he’d graduated college. 

The Genie crossed his arms, a knowing gleam flashing in his eyes. “They’ll shift back to Red once you join the past, Roman...but unless you move those lead feet of yours….” He gave a one shoulder shrug. “You can’t change anything from the fringes of time.” 

Roman swallowed. Busted. “This actually works?” He mumbled, forcing himself to move up next to the Genie. “Changing the past?” 

“I wouldn’t have a job if it didn’t.” The Genie said, taking the hand holding the pocket watch. 

Good point. “Well, what are we waiting for?” Roman asked, surging forward, pulling the Genie after him. “Let’s get this show on the ro--” 

The veil of time whisked itself back at their approach, the curtain thickening and darkening with every step pass it that Roman took before it fell back in place, a dark crimson red, as the past settled around them. 

“-oad.” Roman whispered, jerking backwards into the Genie as he barely avoided getting hit by two of the tech crew, rushing by wheeling one of the many lamp posts into place. Just beyond them Taz had crouched down to search underneath some fake shrubbery, with Luis, his assistant, hovering nearby.

“I already looked there, sir.” Luis said, giving a nervous bob of his head to the Prop Master. “I swear, it was in the prop room when we left last night!” 

“Well, it’s not there now, Luis.” Taz said, biting back a groan as he pushed himself to his feet. “Go check again. Maybe it fell underneath the table. And if it’s not there...just…” He waved a hand. “Go, see if you can find an extra umbrella somewhere alright?” 

“Yessir!” Luis nearly bowed before he darted off towards the prop closet, leaving Taz to move to the next set piece in his fruitless search. 

“I didn’t take you for the gawking type, you know.” The Genie said conversationally. 

Roman snapped his mouth shut, swallowing. “I didn’t realize it would be so….real.” He whispered. Was this how Marty McFly felt the first time he went back in time? Had Hermione had the same reaction with the Time Turner? “Can they---can we--”

The Genie shook his head, giving Roman a shove towards the brickwall where he knew his younger self waited. “You’re basically a ghost, Roman. They can’t see, feel, or hear us.” 

Oh. Roman furrowed his brow. “Then how do I---” His heart stopped as they rounded a partial house set. There he was. Just where he knew his younger self would be. 

Young Roman loitered near the exit, his eyes constantly flicking up to the clock on the wall as he fidgeted in place. Geez...had Roman actually thought he didn’t look guilty just standing there? His younger self basically had _‘I know where the umbrella is!’_ painted across his pale face. 

“Change the past?” The Genie finished for him.

“Well yah.” Roman said, dragging his eyes away from the teenager, and half turned to the Genie. “How can I make me--him--” He shook his head, holding out the pocket watch. “You know...not make the choice I don’t want to make if I can’t talk to uh..me?” 

“To put it simply.” The Genie said, lifting the chain of the watch over Roman’s head. “You’re going to merge with yourself.” He said, dropping his hand to Roman’s, pulling his hand free from the watch to allow the device to rest against his chest.. 

Roman blinked, flexing his fingers. “Merge--I’m going to possess myself?” 

The Genie tsked. “You humans always use that word.” He muttered, shaking his head. “Possession means taking control. You’re not doing that, Roman. You’re merging.” He gestured to the teenager. ”For a short time, current you and past you will be one person. There will be no fighting for dominance. No controlling of past self’s actions. You will be living this moment as yourself. You will be teenage you once more, but retain current you’s knowledge, which is why.” His eyes darkened as he jabbed a finger at Roman’s chest, tapping the watch. “You. Do. Not. Talk. About. The. Future.” 

Roman took a step back, waving his hands defensively. “Got it. I got it. Don’t talk about Time travel.” It was just like Fight Club. Rule One. You don’t talk about Fight Club. “I can’t change other people’s decisions nor tell them about the future, I was paying attention when you told me the first time.” 

Relief flashed through the Genie’s eyes as he nodded, taking a step back. “Good.” He exhaled, fingers twitching as he glanced to Roman’s younger self. “You’re sure this is the choice you want to change?” He asked as the teenager suddenly dropped a hand to his pocket. 

Roman tensed, his heart rate picking up. The text. Patton had just shown up. “Of course.” If he could stop--if he could change this. 

The Genie nodded. “Then one last rule, Roman.” He said, blocking his pathway to his younger self. “Time is a fickle thing. It does not like changing and the timestream will not retain it’s new course if this Warp is not done properly.” 

Roman frowned, fidgeting in place as he looked around the Genie to his younger self. “Not stay--IF TIME WON’T--”

The Genie cut him off with a wave of a multi colored hand. “You have three choices, Roman.” He said, firmly. “Three chances to change the past. There are no halfsies here. If you choose to change one decision you must change two more or else the alterations to your lifeline will not stay.” He shook his head. “It’s an all or nothing deal, Roman. All. Or. Nothing. At the end of your third decision you will have the opportunity to keep all three changes….” His hands clenched, the rainbow on his skin shifting to more blues and purples as his eyes darkened. “Or none of them. Therefore.” He jerked his head to young Roman as the teenager pushed open the door. “Is this the choice you want to change?” 

To save Patton from his current half-life? 

Roman shoved past the Genie and ran, a zing of cold electricity rushing through him as he slid into himself just as young Roman lowered the fedora over his eyes.


	10. Back to the Past

_"It’s fine.”_ The words rang in Roman’s ears as his fingers trembled, feeling the wool of the hat under his touch as the tingling of the merge faded from his skin. 

It had worked. It was...he was…. 

Roman lifted his head, heart pounding in his chest as he met Patton’s hundred watt smile with one of his own. 

The Genie had said it would feel like he was actually his teenage self, but Roman hadn’t expected it to feel….so natural. Like slipping on a pair of well worn shoes. 

He lowered his hand, taking it all in. Patton. Standing there uninjured, wearing his favorite tie-dye shirt, looking at him with seeing eyes. “And the Umbrella?” Roman asked, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them.

He froze, eyes widening. No. No, that was what he had said last time! He wasn’t going to repe--agh! He hadn’t wanted to remind him!

Patton blinked, his smile faltering as he ran a hand through his sweat drenched curls. “Um...brella?” He whispered, hunching his shoulders. 

A wave of red crossed his vision like a flag waving in front of a bull. Roman gritted his teeth, fighting against his instinct to freak out. 

He failed.

“PAT!” The door swung shut behind him as he stepped out of the building into the parking lot to prevent the cast and crew from hearing the rest of the exchange.

What had the Genie said? 

Time was a fickle thing. It didn’t like to be changed. 

Roman grabbed his best friend’s hands as soon as the door clicked, mouth opening and shutting as he fought to not say the words he could feel burning on his tongue. “You... forgot the umbrella?” He choked out. 

To blazes with Time!! He thought this would be much easier to alter. 

Pat winced, flushing crimson as he squeezed Roman’s hands. “Oops.” He whispered.

Roman gritted his teeth, his fingernails digging into Patton’s skin, resisting the urge to throw his hands up in the air like he’d done the first time. He wouldn’t make a scene. Wouldn’t yell. He met Patton’s eyes. His clear blue, seeing eyes. “H-how...is that….Itwasrightbythedoor!” 

Pat dropped his eyes, shaking his head. “I-I”m sorry!” He tugged at his hands, trying to free them from Roman’s iron grip. “It totally slipped my mind while I was getting Ellyn in the car!” He took a step back, towards the parking lot, increasing the distance between them as much as he could when Roman refused to let go. 

He couldn’t let him leave. Not now. He wouldn’t let Patton run towards his destiny with a driver who wouldn’t see him in the intersection because of the sun shining in their eyes. “Pat...you--” 

His best friend twisted his wrists, slipping free. “Don’t worry, Ro!” He called flashing Roman another smile as he broke into a run. “I can fix this! I’ll go grab it right now!”

And come back blind? Come back paralyzed? NO. He wouldn’t just stand there this time and do nothing. “PATTON!” Roman yelled, his voice cracking as he forced his leadened legs to move, cursing the tap shoes that made it that much more difficult to catch his best friend as he chased him across the parking lot. “COME BACK!” 

He had no idea where Patton had parked. How close were they to his car? He had to catch him before he drove away. Heart pounding in his chest like a drum about to go to battle, Roman snagged Patton’s arm just as they reached the curb to cross the street. He pulled him back, blood pounding in his ears. “Th-there’s ba--barely twenty minutes.” He gasped out, struggling to catch his breath. 

Patton turned, placing his hand on Roman’s, giving him a reassuring smile. “And I’ll be back in fifteen.” He said, making eye contact, his bright blue eyes shining. “Promise.” 

No. He wouldn’t. 

Roman shook his head, his eyes blurring. “I...it’s fine. Pat. Seriously.” He said, tugging Patton back towards the theater. “I don’t...it’s too big a risk.” 

Patton shook his head, standing his ground. “Not for you. I’ve done this drive a million times. Fifteen minutes. Plenty of time.” He said, his tone turning pleading. “Let me fix this.” 

He couldn’t. Not in this way. Roman swallowed. “You---you don’t---the---there’s a spare here.” He said pointing back at the theater with his free hand. “Somewhere. Inside. Fix this by helping me find it. Please.” 

Patton blinked. “A spare? You never mentioned a spare before, Princey.” 

“Ha.” Roman gave a half smile, shrugging his shoulders. He hadn’t known about the spare until after the show the first time. “You know me, Padre. I prefer to stick to one prop. But I can make it work for tonight. Help me find it. It’ll be easier than risking you getting stuck traffic.” Or T-boned in an intersection. 

Patton chewed on his bottom lip, looking over his shoulder at the street. “You’re sure?” He asked, finally.

Roman nodded, the tightness in his chest easing. “Yes.” 

His best friend huffed, blowing his curly hair out of his eyes as he turned back to Roman. “Well…” Patton winked. “Let’s go find that spare then!” He said nearly pulling Roman off his feet as he broke into a run dragging him back towards the theater. “Your audience awaits!”


	11. Shifting Lines

Thomas exhaled, massaging his shoulder from where Roman had rammed it in his desperation to get to his younger self. This was why he hated working with reds. They were so impulsive. 

He whirled, grabbing up the actor’s brilliant red lifeline as Roman skidded into himself, cursing under his breath as the two Romans flashed gold. Great. He hated working on the fly. Thomas darted forward snagging Roman’s teenage lifeline and tugged, twisting the two threads together in a loose knot around the glowing figure to ensure Roman stayed merged with his younger self until the watch signaled that the actor had changed his choice.

Okay. Thomas set himself, multi-colored fingers gliding over Roman’s lifelines as he stepped back, keeping the threads taut. Time to prepare for disappointment. Despite how much he already liked the actor…he doubted Roman would do well by his choice. After all, the moment he’d picked in his lifeline...didn’t make sense.

From how Roman had reacted in the timestream, he’d expected there to be well….more to this scene. 

Thomas knew all too well that small actions could be the catalyst to important life changing events. But this small spat with a friend over a forgotten prop? It hadn’t mattered in the long run for Roman. His performance had gone well. People had applauded his improvisation of the cane. In reality, Roman’s lifeline had barely changed a shade. A small inconvenience. Nothing more. 

Thomas shook his head, easily keeping up with Roman as the actor took off after his friend, keeping a close eye on the red lifeline with a small frown on his face. Unaltered. He could see that Roman was finally deviating from his previous choice, choosing to chase after his friend….to go with him maybe? But the golden stars sitting on the red thread refused to flash as the three of them ran through the parking lot. 

“What are you thinking?” He mumbled, nearly running past the two as Roman pulled Patton to a stop. If they’d kept going, the two of them would have gone to get the prop….wasn’t that the choice the actor was wanting to chan--

His focus shifted from Roman’s double red lifelines to Patton’s blue one as it suddenly shimmered into view.

That wasn’t normal.

Sure. If he focused while on a warp, Thomas could see other people’s lifelines. See how their colors shifted and changed when his Warping Buddy made their new choice, but to have one appear without provocation? 

He moved both of Roman’s threads into one hand so he could take up Patton’s in the other, studying it with narrowed eyes. The blue lifeline leading into his future was faded, nearly beige in color after this point--his breath caught as the lifeline shimmered in his hand, the thread blurring as Patton turned to look at the street, to where his car was parked three blocks away. 

“You’re sure?” Patton asked, chewing on his bottom lip.

Roman nodded. “Yes.” 

Patton huffed. “Well…” he said, turning back to Roman, his pale lifeline snapping back into focus a brilliant blue swirled with red as he winked. “Let’s go find that spare then!” He said, dragging the actor back towards the theater, leaving Thomas gaping after them, their lifelines moving effortlessly through his lax fingers.

It wasn’t Roman’s own life that he’d wanted to change in this moment. _It was Patton’s._

Thomas gripped the lifelines as the golden stars residing on Roman’s red threads flashed gold. 

Roman had made his choice.

But….that was impossible! The actor hadn’t...Warps could only change their own---Thomas shook his head, getting a grip on himself. He had a job to do. Focus on that first and the impossibilities later. 

Letting go of Patton’s lifeline, Thomas took up both of Roman’s once more and tugged, releasing the knot holding past and present selves together. He barely waited for Roman to come free from his teenage self before he placed a hand on his shoulder.

 **“You’ve made your choice. Now see the consequence.”** He told the startled actor before he whisked them both back into the timestream.


	12. Wassup Doc?

Roman had jumped into a frozen lake once on a dare. He’d thought he’d never experience anything colder than that.

He was wrong. 

The invisible hand that clamped down on his shoulder and abruptly pulled him away from Patton and into the timestream left him feeling like he’d been doused with dry ice dialed down to absolute frozen and then shoved beyond that point into the Mariana's Trench of freezing cold. 

The swirling rainbow vortex abruptly vanished and Roman stumbled, ramming his knees in the drawers of his vanity, barely managing to grab the sides of the desk to steady himself as he hunched over it, lungs screaming for air as he raggedly inhaled like he’d just risen from the depths of the ocean. 

“Don’t move. Your body will need a moment to adjust to being in the altered timeline.” The Genie said, his hand now warm on Roman’s shoulder. “Experiencing dizziness, muscle weakness, nausea, or any other ill effect is normal and will pass momentarily.”

Oh goodie. Roman grimaced, knuckles going white on the wood as he hunched his shoulders, his vision swimming so that there were a good half dozen Genies visible in the mirror. He lowered his head, working on clearing his sight and getting warm air back into his frozen lungs. 

“Sh-should’ve mentioned that be-before you brought me back, Sparkles.” He muttered, blinking his eyes clear as he took a deep breath, forcing himself to straighten and look at the Genie’s reflection. “Warn a dude before you suddenly jerk him back into the present.” 

At least the Genie had been right though. As cold as he’d been seconds ago, he now felt perfectly normal. 

The Genie raised an eyebrow, pulling his glimmering hand away. “With your impulsive nature, I couldn’t.” 

His impulsi--- Roman whirled, spreading out his hands. “Impulsive! If I had just stood there listening to you yakking then nothing would have changed….” Roman paused, taking in the room around him for the first time since he got back.

 _It looked exactly the same._

Broken furniture and shattered vases. His back twinging from his scuffle with Logan. Roman dropped his hands, throat tightening. “Nothing changed.” He whispered. 

The Genie exhaled and nodded, a crease forming between his eyes as he studied the air around him. “Which is why I told you, Roman. You can’t change other’s choices. Only choices you've made.”

“But--” His heart sunk. How had he messed it up?! Finally a chance to stop Patton and...it had done nothing?

The Genie shook his head. “The watch should have prevented you from doing this.” He muttered, frowning at Roman’s chest where the pocket watch rested on its chain. “The Lifelines always change before I can pull my Warps out of the past. But yours didn’t.” 

Roman growled. Great. He’d broken the watch. How could he have done that? He barely touched it. He’d followed the rules! 

He moved, avoiding the broken glass as he paced around the Genie like a caged tiger. “I did only change my choice--which by the way, you also didn’t tell me how difficult it is to go off-script, because that was bloody difficult. But I,” He gestured to himself. “Chose to chase after Patton instead of just letting him leave. I gave him another option and he took it.” 

Thankfully. Hopefully. Had Pat still gotten into the accident even after helping him search for the umbrella? He racked his memories, searching for the answer. He’d remember if they’d found it yes? 

No? He kicked at the shards of glass, touching the crown pendant. He wasn’t remembering anything different! Would he never remember a different history even if he did change the past? That was idiotic if he didn’t. But...if nothing had---The Genie could only pull him out if the lifelines had changed. But his hadn’t---Wait. He whirled pointing at the Genie. “You said lifelines.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” 

“And mine didn’t change.” 

He nodded. 

“So…” Roman licked his lips. “Did Patton’s?”

The Genie hesitated, the rainbow along his skin swirling with blue the same shade as Patton’s eyes. 

Roman lifted his head, his heart leaping in his chest. “It did!” He grinned, pointing at the Genie. “That’s how you pulled me out! _His_ lifeline changed!” 

The Genie broke eye contact, frowning back down at the watch. “It shouldn’t be possible.” 

Shouldn’t be didn’t mean it _couldn’t_ be possible. It just meant unlikely. “But it DID! What changed in his life? What happened to--” Roman cut off as a quadruple rap sounded on the door at the same moment his cell phone buzzed. 

He jerked, staring at the door. He knew that rap...but he couldn’t...how could he know it? No one in the theater knocked like that. “Who’s that?” He asked. 

The Genie glanced over his shoulder, his eyes growing sharp. “Your consequence.” He said simply, his hair moving in an unseen breeze as he shimmered, disappearing from view. 

“My conse--Where are you goi--!!” Roman cut off as the door swung open, revealing a man standing in the doorway, his curly hair dyed in shades of pastel blue and pink, with bright blue eyes shining behind a pair of glasses. 

_Not sunglasses._ Roman’s mind supplied as the man flashed him an all too familiar hundred watt smile, adjusting his frames as he tsked, taking in the room and Roman’s appearance. “Geez, Princey. Am I going to have to patch you up every time I try to drop in for a surprise visit?” 

Roman barely stopped himself from gapping at the visitor. His mind straining for information that was just out of reach. He knew this man. It couldn’t...was it? “Pat?” He whispered. No way. This tall confident figure couldn’t be--his heart leapt into his throat. 

Patton grinned wider, bright blue eyes sparkling behind his glasses. “What? You expected me to not show up for my best friend’s last big hurrah before he flies to London?” He asked, crossing the room in two long strides, pulling Roman into a tight hug. ”Fat chance, Ro. Just because my Residency is trying to suck away all my free time doesn’t mean it’s going to stop me from being there for you.” 

He inhaled sharply, an instant ache forming behind his eyes as images and conversations of the past shot into his head like a geyser into a water bottle. He buried his head against Patton’s shoulder to keep from crying out as he clung to his best friend. 

_Ow._ Another thing the Genie neglected to tell him. Holding two sets of memories in your head _hurt._

Yet. The memories told him. This was Patton. This. Was. Patton! 

Roman laughed, blinking the tears from his eyes as he pulled back, taking in his best friend. “Geez, man. You can’t call me out for being surprised.” Even if he technically had memories of when Patton first got glasses in his second year of college, and when he’d passed Roman in height in their senior year of high school--it still felt like he was seeing him for the first time.

Because he was. 

At least the first time with dyed hair. 

Roman raised an eyebrow. “With the hair and all--” He gestured up and down, as knowledge and memories settled in his head alongside the original set. “I barely recognized you.”

Patton chuckled, “You like?” He asked, running a hand through the pastel colors. “The other Doctors disapprove, but the kids love it, so I’ve kept it.” 

Roman clicked his tongue. “Ahhh. Well...if it’s for the kids…” He leaned against the vanity, careful to not jar his aching back, unable to stop staring at his best friend. “You always did try to make their day.” It used to be with balloon animals and silly jokes though. But now that he was a Doctor---

Roman stopped breathing for a second.

_A Doctor._

Patton had become a Doctor?!

But the new set of memories didn’t lie. He’d been to the graduation. Held the certificate in his hand that made Pat offici--it was crazy. Patton had talked of becoming a teacher throughout high school...not that he’d ever fulfilled that dream after the accident. 

Pat laughed. “What can I say?” He spread his arms. “I like kids. I do what I can to make them smi--but look at me!” He tsked, clapping his hands together. “Getting distracted when you’re hurt!” He grabbed Roman’s hand, pulling him away from the vanity. “Let me see.” 

“How did you?” 

“Know?” Patton pointed to the lounging chair.

“Yah.”

“Remove the shirt and lie down first.” He said, removing his glasses and sticking them in his shirt pocket. 

This was weird. He remembered Patton treating him before...yet it didn’t make him feel any less self-conscious pulling his shirt off, wincing as the fabric caught on the glass and thorns stuck in his skin. “I can listen and move at the same time.” He grumbled, tossing the shirt over the back of the couch, fighting down the flutter in his stomach. From what he could remember, Patton had patched him up dozens of times. He shouldn’t be nervous.

“Uh-Huh, you keep telling yourself that. Lay down already, Princey.” Patton said, grabbing the first aid kit. “I’m curious if you’re better or worse off than your coffee boy.” 

_Logan._ Roman frowned, pulling a pillow to his chest to hug as he laid down on his stomach. Had his life changed at all? It didn’t seem like it...they’d still had their fight. Both of them were still injured. He exhaled. This changing the past thing was a pain. “I probably got the worst of it---when did you run into him?” 

He didn’t remember Pat meeting Logan before, though Roman had complained about him enough. His best friend had practically been living in the hospital the past year due to his Residency and Roman had been too busy on Broadway and preparing for the trip to London to go visit. 

“I ran into him and your T.D., Reese, on the way to see you.” Patton said, pulling the vanity chair over to the couch. “I saw the bandage on his hand and the blood spotting it and inquired after it." He smiled, bright blue eyes sparkling with approval. "You did a good job bandaging it, Ro. I’m glad to see you paid attention back when I practiced on you for my tests.” His warm fingers ghosted over Roman’s back as he leaned over, his eyes darting back and forth as he took up the tweezers and cleansed them with an antiseptic swab. 

Roman shrugged, he’d originally learned it on his own, but the new memories were showing him Patton’s version too. “You’re a good teacher, Pat. You could have gone that route too you know.” 

“Yah….” Patton tilted his head at the familiar argument. “Being a doctor is...well more….rewarding though. To see a sick child become well again--” He shrugged, bending over him, tweezers at the ready. “He’s quite the handful by the way. Logan. I can see why we hadn’t yet met.” 

“Ha.” Roman winced as the first glass shard came free from his back. That was an understatement. Roman let out a shaky breath, working to stay relaxed as he twisted his head to keep his friend in view. “Please tell me he didn’t try to punch you. That’s his usual greeting to unexpected company.” 

He’d been working to break Lo of the habit, but with his coffee boy’s current mindstate...it wouldn’t surprise him if Logan thought Patton was from the Police. He flinched as Pat pulled a thorn from his back. 

“No...no punching.” Patton said slowly, focusing on Roman’s back. “I saw the intent in his eyes though. There’s a lot of anger there. He refused to let me within two feet of him until Reese said that I was a friend of yours and I told him I was a Doctor.” Patton shook his head. “I had to show my hospital ID before he consented. He didn’t believe I could be a Doctor with my multi-colored hair. Thought it wasn’t professional. He kept mentioning some dude named Morgan was supposed to look at him.”

“He’s the Master Stitcher.” Roman hissed sharply, back arching away from the tweezers.

Pat shot him an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

“It’s….fine.” Roman slowly exhaled, trying to relax. “Reese was taking Logan to see him.” 

Patton rolled his eyes. “Heaven help me. Roman! A Doctor. A nurse. Even an EMT. Not some Master Stitcher--if I hadn’t...why would you-?”

Oh, he could recall the lectures Patton had given him on the subject the first couple of times he had tried to treat his own wounds without seeking help. “Logan’s….” 

“Difficult?” Glass shards dropped onto the lid of the first aid kit. “Too difficult to go to the hospital? Too difficult to be willing to risk those wounds getting infected? Too difficult that he’d prefer getting stuck with a needle by a man used to working with fabric instead of skin?” His eyes glittered as he glanced to Roman.

He met Patton’s eyes, unblinking. “Yes. Today. Yes.” 

Pat raised an eyebrow. “Just today?” 

“It’s unlucky for him.” 

He briefly looked upwards, popping his lips in exasperation. “Of course it is.” 

Roman hummed, watching his friend. He didn’t think he’d ever tire of it. Patton looked so at ease, sitting there wielding the tweezers with an expertise that spoke of years of practice, his eyes intent on his work. “I’m surprised he made it to the theatre actually...he’s...on edge.” 

“On edge?” Patton repeated thoughtfully before nodding in agreement. “Yah. I can see that.” More thorns clinked onto the lid. “Only got him to relax when I started talking about work.” 

Roman raised an eyebrow. “And?”

Patton flashed him a smile, eyes twinkling. “Kid has some interesting theories on bioorganics I hadn’t considered to help increase the healing rate after invasive surgery. If he’ll let me, I’d love to pick his brain a bit more. You never told me he was majoring in biochem, Ro.” 

Roman snorted. Biochem? Logan really was another Bruce Banner. “I didn’t know, actually. He’s rather tight-lipped about his past.” For good reason. 

“Ah.” Patton nodded. “I get that. I sensed he was just waiting to ask me about the tattoos. Poor guy. The LOGIC one has a particular darkness to it. I don’t think he likes it.”

Roman grimaced, the guilt settling heavily in his stomach like a cannonball. “For a good reason.” He said, keeping his voice low. “It was forced on him.” 

Patton paused, pursing his lips, eyes going dark. “Is that so…” He glanced to the doorway and the figure lurking there. “You didn't want it?”

Roman lifted his head, heart jumping into his throat as Logan warily stepped into the room, clad in just a towel. His long hair dripped as it hung damp around his face covering the tattoo in question. “No.” He bit off the word, glancing between Roman and Patton as he slowly crossed one arm over his skinny chest, hiding the star symbol on his sternum. “My clothes. Give them.” 

“A please would do wonders, but no.” Patton shook his head, turning back to Roman. “They’re filthy and I just got you clean.” 

Logan growled, his eyes flashing as a knife appearing in his hand. “Give. Them. Back.” 

Honestly. Roman exhaled, pushing up onto his elbows. “Logan, I thought we talked about the knives.” He shouldn’t be surprised to see the weapon. Though he’d love to know how his coffee boy had made the knife appear when he was literally wearing nothing but a towel. “Patton's not a threat.” 

He bared his teeth, eyes flashing as a rumble emanating from his chest. “My clothes.”

“Aren’t here.” Pat flicked his eyes to Logan as he pushed Roman back down. “I’m not done.” He murmured, pulling out another sliver of glass. “Morgan took them to repair them. I know you keep a few spares around, Ro. You can let the kiddo here borrow a set for now, right?” 

_“KID!”_

And there he went. Roman surged to his feet, but Pat beat him to the punch, reaching Logan first, plucking the knife from his fingers as the coffee boy recoiled from his sudden proximity. He slammed back into the wall and bit down a yelp, face twisting in pain. 

Patton winced, taking a step back. “Sorry, Logan.” He apologized, closing the switchblade before holding it out to the coffee boy like a peace offering. “I didn’t mean that as an insult. Most of my patients are children, and I often use kiddo when I refer to them. It slips out on occasion when I talk to adults too.” He wiggled the blade in his fingers. “Like just now. I’m sorry. Forgive me?” 

Logan drew in a shaky breath, lowering his head, his damp hair falling in front of his face. “Keep the knife.” He muttered. “I’m not supposed to have it.” 

Roman relaxed, silently breathing a sigh of relief as he moved to the closet to grab a spare change of clothes. That was probably the closest Patton would get to Logan accepting his apology. 

Pat cocked his head, his fingers closing around the handle. “You’re sure?” 

Logan clenched his hands. “No.” 

“Well…” Patton clicked his tongue, slipping the blade into his pocket. “When you want it back, just let me know, okay?” He held out his hand again to the coffee boy. “I know I’m past your twelve minute mark, but can I finish treating your injuries before you get dressed? We can stay in here while Princey takes his own shower.” 

Logan’s eyes flashed as he turned his head to Roman. “Princey?” 

“A nickname from High School.” Roman said with a half shrug, holding out the clothes. “These might be a bit loose on you. But they should do until Morgan returns.” 

“It was from Jr. High actually.” Patton smirked and dropped his hand, his eyes glinting with mischief. “After you spent the semester in that Prince Costume to ‘get in character’ for--”

“Don’t you dare!” Roman clamped a hand over Patton’s mouth, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt. “Don’t scar my coffee boy’s tender ears, Padre. He doesn’t need to hear more than that.” 

“Oh no.” Logan dead panned, holding the shirt and pants loosely in his arms. “Not my tender ears.” He rolled his eyes. “That’s a new one….Princey.” 

The nickname sounded so foreign coming from Logan’s mouth. Patton had been the only one to still call him that over the years. 

Logan shook his head, glancing to Patton then to the door. “I’m sure I’ve heard worse stories in prison, and will hear more creative ones in…” He hesitated, licking his lips. “In London?”

“Yes to London, but no to the story. You won’t hear this one. Ever.” Roman said, glaring at his friend. It was one thing to have Patton call him that when no one else remembered the origin of the nickname, he wouldn’t have Logan knowing the true reason. 

Pat reached up, pulling Roman’s hand down. “I’ll tell it to you as soon as he’s out of earshot.” He promised.

Roman gasped, going for as dramatic as possible. “Traitor!” 

He laughed ducking out and away from Roman, returning to his chair and the first aid kit. “What? It’s only a fair trade, Princey. A story for a treatment. I think it’s a deal.” 

Logan frowned, cautiously pushing away from the door, a flash of pain crossing his face as he jarred his back. “Is he always...like this?” 

Patton tilted his head, widening his eyes as he too glanced to Roman. “Like what?” 

Roman nodded, moving for the door. A shower sounded like a good idea and Patton could handle Logan for a few more minutes. “You’ll get used to it, Lo. But he’s harmless so long as you don’t force him to go Dad mode on you.” 

“Dad...mode?” 

“Behave. Let him treat you, follow his instructions, and you won’t find out.”

Patton tsked, giving Roman a brief pout. “Like I’d do that to him when we’ve just met.” 

“That’s exactly why I’m warning him. You’ve just met.” He retorted, grabbing the handle.

Patton scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Now you’re going to make him fear it, Princey. It’s not a bad mode to have you know.” He ducked his head, pulling out bandages and more antiseptic wipes from the kit. “Logan...mind if you sit here?” He asked, patting the lounging couch as Roman pulled open the door. “Once you’re fixed up, you can put on those clothes. We can even talk about some options for tattoo removal if you want.” 

Logan froze, one hand reaching up to his face before he jerked it back down to the clothes, adjusting them so they covered the star tattoo on his chest. “Like I have the money, Doc.” He said, reluctantly moving to the couch, hunching his shoulders.

“That's not an issue.” 

“Not a...Are you mental? Any treatment costs--”

“I know. But I also know many doctors around the country, Logan, who specialize in treating skin abrasions. Tattoos included.” Patton interrupted, gesturing for the coffee boy to sit on the couch. “If you were forced to get that or any of your other marks against your will.” He said, pointing a finger at Logan’s face as he sat before dropping his hand to gesture to the rest of his thin body. “I will see to it that they are properly removed. You have my word on that. There are programs in place to help people in situations similar to yours. Money won’t be an issue.”

The clothes fell to the ground. “You’re….serious?” Logan breathed, a glimmer of cautionary hope in his eyes. He looked up to Roman. “I’m dreaming. He’s serious?” 

“And welcome to Dad Mode.” Roman said, fighting to sound normal over the lump in his throat. What would he do without Pat in his life? How had he survived the first time around without his best friend here? It was beyond belief how much could change just from Pat choosing to become a doctor. 

“Told you it wasn’t bad.” Patton said with a chuckle. The look he shot Roman was more of the Mom Glare variety though. “Go shower, Princey.” He said shooing him away. “I got this.” 

“That you do.” Roman whispered, giving Logan an encouraging smile as he slipped outside, shutting the door behind him and leaned against it.

This was---A tug on his heart pulled him away from the door and the hallway still littered with broken glass and flower petals vanished as the rainbow timestream reappeared around him in all its swirling glory. The Genie shimmering into view, eyes golden and warm. “So? Are you satisfied with your chan--?” 

Roman pulled the Genie into a hug before he could finish. 

Was he satisfied? Was he satisfied?! 

Roman laughed through the tears that threatened to fall. This was beyond anything he could have imagined and it was worth it. So worth it.


	13. Receiving Gratitude

The world stopped.

It was such a stupid expression. But that’s exactly how Thomas felt. His mind was a giant blank, his body frozen in place, the timestream flowing around them as he was overwhelmed.

_Warmth._

_Happiness._

_Warmth._

_Joy._

_Warmth._

Of all the reactions he could have received from the actor, Thomas hadn’t expected...this. No one had ever...hugged him before. Not on a warp. Not after just the first decision! 

No one ever liked it when he would vanish to hover on the fringes of the timestream. Even fewer were grateful to be pulled away from their first consequence to continue the warp. He was far more used to people attempting to punch him.

But here. Roman was hugging him.

Thomas swallowed, brain finally kicking back into gear, his hands trembling by his sides as he waffled between returning the gesture or just standing there like an idiotic statue. 

“Thank you.” Roman said, suddenly pulling back, his eyes dancing. “Seriously, Sparkles. I can’t…” He shook his head, practically bouncing on his toes. “Thanks to you, Pat’s...he’s now a _Doctor!_ All because I changed…” He grinned. “It’s unbelievable.” 

And now a Thank you? After just the first choice?

Mentally, Thomas shook himself, careful to keep the colors shimmering on his skin in the lighter blues and golds. He grinned back, rubbing his arms, trying to push the tingling on his skin from Roman’s touch away. “I’m happy to hear you approve of consequences to your first change.” He said. “You’ve done well. Both yours and his lifelines are bright. Patton’s indicates his pathway will only become more influential should he continue his current course.” 

Or any course really. His lifeline took on more red the longer this current timeline held. 

Even if Patton chose to not become the Pediatric Surgeon he was striving to be, the lifeline still showed that he would leave quite the mark on the medical world.

Roman’s eyes lit up. “I can believe that.” He said, glancing behind him with a fond smile. “Pat’s always enjoyed helping people. He’s even going to help Logan!” His fingers twitched. “Help Logan.” He repeated, softly. 

Unbelievable. An Actor who was actually happy to hear someone was doing better than they were.

Thomas glanced to the watch hanging from Roman’s neck, fighting against the hope flickering in his chest.

_It won’t last._

As miraculous as this first change was. Roman still had two more choices to make. Two more opportunities to mess up. Two more changes before he decided he wanted none of them. Two more miracles before the warp ended up Green again. 

It was foolish to hope. Foolish to think that this time would be different. Other warps had started out with just as much potential only to stumble at the finish line. 

Roman wouldn’t be any different. It couldn’t be. Reds didn’t finish in anything other than Green. 

Thomas spread his arms, his skin still tingling from Roman’s touch as he gestured to his red lifeline floating slightly separated from the timestream. “You have two more chances then, Roman, to change your past. Choose carefully.” 

The Actor nodded, brushing the crown necklace and the small wound beneath. He grabbed the watch as it blazed gold, his smile fading as he straightened, squaring his shoulders while the timestream rushed down to buffet him once more. “I’m ready.” 

Ready---But there had been no memories yet for Roman to choose from! How could he--Thomas’s skin lit up blazing in their rainbow color as the time energy swelled within him. 

Roman had chosen a memory before any options had appeared. 

_What was he thinking?!_

Thomas exhaled. Whatever. He should probably expect Roman Sanders to not stick to normal procedures. He’d already flouted one rule. Why not choose his second choice too while he was at it? **“Then prepare, Roman.”** He said, taking the actor’s hands. 

In reality, Thomas felt like he should be the one preparing. He had no context for where or when they were going in the actor’s past, but the stars anchoring him to Roman’s lifeline were blazing, marking his chosen moment. **“To change your choice.”**


	14. The Second Original Choice

“Tranquil as a forest, but on fire within. Once you find your center, you are sure to win!” _Roman sang along with his Ipod as he danced around the kitchen, gathering up the ingredients for his sandwich, moving his feet to the steps of the Pasodoble he’d spent the semester perfecting. Strong. Confident. Bold._

_He scooped up the jar of Crofters from the fridge and spun back to the counter where the bread and peanut butter already awaited him. Pulling open the drawer nearby, Roman grabbed a knife and lunged, fighting his imaginary opponent._ “You’re a spineless, pale, pathetic lot.” He twisted off the lid to the jam. “And you haven’t got a clue!” _He jabbed the knife into the jam and pulled it out, smearing the bread with a thick layer of strawberry._ “Somehow, I’ll make a man out of you!” 

_He grinned, before gasping, falling back against the cupboard with a loud bang, his voice rising into a falsetto._ “I’m never going to catch my breath.” _He fell to his knees, dropping to a baritone._ “Say goodbye to those who knew me.” _He ducked his head, knife held close to his chest._ “Boy, was I a fool in school for cutting gym!” 

_Roman surged to his feet, sliding the knife into the peanut butter next. Like he would cut gym. He had to keep up appearances._ “This guy’s got him scared to death.” _Again he went into the falsetto._ “Hope he doesn’t see right through me!” 

_He glided over to the sink, running the butter knife under the faucet._ “Now I really wish that I knew how to swim.” _He tossed the silverware into the dishwasher and stalked forward to the beat and picked up his sandwich putting the two sides together. Perfection._ “Be a--” 

_BANG. BANG. BANG._

_Roman cut off, PB &J halfway to his mouth. Now who could that be? He glanced automatically to the clock on the microwave and frowned. “Geez. It’s only eight!” He complained under his breath, setting the sandwich down on the counter as he strode for the door, allowing the music to continue blasting in the background as he flung it open. “What?” He demanded to the scrawny guy standing before him. Quiet hours didn’t start until eleven._

_His unwanted visitor bared his teeth in a poor imitation of a smile as he swayed in place, reddened eyes struggling to focus on Roman._

_He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. Someone was starting their end of semester party a little early. “Can I help you?”_

_He stared at Roman, head falling sideways as he stared hazily at him, taking far too long to blink behind his glasses. “Yah?” He muttered, before nodding. Straightening. “YAH! You!” The dark haired guy flopped one hand at Roman, using the other to shakily push his glasses back up. “Too loud. HUSH UP!”_

_Roman scoffed. Who was being the loud one now? And with the dude's inability to focus his reddened eyes on him, it was clear he wasn’t going to get any studying done anyways. “It’s only eight, Specs. Quiet hours start at eleven. Come back and complain to me after that.” Not that he planned to be up for much longer. He needed his beauty sleep. Roman wanted to look his best when he went to Broadway’s general auditions for their Mary Poppins musical in the morning._

_Specs violently shook his head, nearly falling over before he caught himself. “Can’t STUDY with your HORRIBLE RACKET. Bad singing is BAD for Concentration.”_

_Roman stiffened. Bad singing? “I was perfectly in tune, you tone deaf ingrate!” He snapped._

_“I HAVE PERFECT PITCH. I’M NOT TONE DEAF!” The guy shouted, clenching his fists as he glowered at Roman, taking a step forward. “TAKE THAT BACK AND THEN BE QUIET.”_

_“Says the guy who’s YELLING AT THE TOP OF HIS LUN--AGH!” Roman momentarily saw stars, his face blossoming in a heatwave of agony._

_The nerd stepped back, shaking his hand. “NOW. SHUT UP.”_

_Roman lifted a hand to his eye, adrenaline coursing through him. The Nerd had just PUNCHED Him. The tenderness around his eye told him...it was going to blacken._

_His vision tunneled._

_His audition._

_How could he go to his audition with a BLACK EYE?_

_Roman surged forward, his own fists flying as he socked Specs in the jaw with an uppercut that knocked the nerd off his feet, slamming him into the wall. “YOU RUINED MY PERFECT FACE!”_

_He was doomed! How could he hope to be taken seriously if he came in with a black eye? They were going to think he was careless or even violent and pass him over without a second thought when he’d spent the last two weeks perfecting his audition piece so he would stand out._

_The Nerd struggled to his feet, glasses askew. “IT’S HARDLY PERFECT WHEN YOU HAVE A STUPID, DUMB, CROOKED SMILE.” He screamed right back, barreling towards Roman like an enraged bull._

_Roman twisted to the side, neatly avoiding the brunt of Spec’s attack as he grabbed the nerd by the wrist and spun, using his momentum to pull him off his feet and send Specs flying back against the wall._

_He cried out as he landed, crumpling face first into one of the potted ferns the apartment complex had scattered along the hallway._

_That would teach him. “Rest a bit why don’t you?” Roman told the nerd as he stepped back into his apartment, watching him struggle to his feet. As much as he wanted to knock the guy into the next year...there were better methods for dealing with this jerkwad than continuing to brawl in the hallway._

_“YOU REST YOUR STUPID CROOKED MOUTH!”_

_Roman slammed his door shut, listening to the nerd ram into it a split second later as he twisted deadbolt with a loud click. “My mouth’s not crooked.” He muttered, brushing his lips before snatching his phone from the counter, raising it to his ear as he silenced his Ipod._

_“911, What’s your emergency?” A woman’s voice greeted him._

_BANG. BANG. BANG._

_Roman turned to the door as the handle rattled, his eyes dark._

_“YOU’RE HORRIBLE! COME BACK OUT AND SHUT UP!” Specs screamed through the door._

_Roman took a calming breath. “I’d like to report a disturbance.” He said evenly as he grabbed a washcloth, running it under cold water from the sink before placing it against his aching eye._

_“COME BACK OUT HERE COWARD AND I’LL SHOW YOU PERFECTION WITH ANOTHER BLACK EYE! THAT WILL EVEN UP YOUR IGNORAMUS FACE!”_

_Coward? COWARD?_

_“Sir...are you alright? Who’s screaming?” The woman asked._

_Roman bit down a growl, his fingers going white on the phone as he glared daggers at the door. He wasn’t a coward._

_“YOU CAN’T JUST SIT IN THERE!!”_

_He could and he would. The police could take it from here. He had an audition in the morning and only a handful of hours to figure out how to hide the swelling. “There’s a male I’ve never met before, probably in his early twenties with dark hair and glasses currently attempting to break down my door.” Roman said as other voices sounded in the hallway._

_BANG. BANG. Thud._

_“GET AWAY FROM ME! I’M GONNA KNOCK HIM OUT AND THEN STUDY IN SILENCE! I HAVE A FINAL! GET OFF! I NEED TO STUDY!”_

_He wished he could knock the nerd out. Dude was getting annoying. “I’m pretty sure he’s tripping and intends to do physical harm. Could you send someone to pick him up?” He asked, pressing the washcloth more firmly against his eye as he gave his location to the woman._

_The nerd would find his quiet, he was sure. Though he’d love to see him try and study in jail._

_“Good luck, Specs.” Roman muttered, hanging up with dispatch, heading to his room for his laptop so he could lookup makeup tips for disguising bruises. “I doubt you’ll make it to that final after this.”_


	15. Black Lines

Roman took the lead, a sharp change from his first warp as he practically pulled Thomas off his feet in his haste to get out of the timestream.

Thomas exhaled. Reds. He kept a tight grip on the actor’s hands, preventing him from leaving too soon. It wouldn’t be good if he brought Roman out years too early or minutes too late. 

“This way.” He said tugging the actor to the right and out of the rainbow current as he brushed the golden star marking the chosen moment. Thomas let go of Roman as soon as the timestream vanished, allowing him to take the lead as they walked into the common area of a small apartment. 

Roman stopped, spinning in a circle, letting out a low whistle. “Huh. I’d forgotten how tiny this place was.” He remarked. “The Palace always felt so large back then.” 

Palace? This complex was seriously called the Palace? Thomas shook his head. He’d seen many apartments through his warps and this one...was like walking into a glorified closet. “Large?” The place could barely hold an uncomfortable looking couch and a TV. “It--”

“Was my first apartment after moving out. Of course it felt huge.” Roman shrugged, watching his younger self sing and dance around the kitchen with a fond smile on his lips. “Cost an arm and a leg too. The landlord loved to charge for every little thing. Garbage pick up, cleaning checks, parking, utilities.” He shook his head. “Really, for the money he was raking in he could have at least built the place with thicker walls.”

Thicker walls? Thomas gestured to young Roman. “The singing, I take it?” 

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Roman winced, hunching his shoulders as he turned to the door, showing Thomas the myriad of cuts and scrapes on his back as he did so. 

Yeesh. He’d seen the amount of glass and thorns Patton had placed on the lid of the first aid kit in the adjusted timeline. But that looked...quite painful. Yet, Roman hardly reacted to them. Thomas frowned. That coffee boy had done quite the number on the actor. How many of those faint scars underneath the fresh wounds were caused by him? 

Roman’s younger self groaned in response to the knocking. “Geez it’s only _eight!”_

“Yah...I was rather loud.” Roman said in a low voice as if he were afraid of being heard over the music. “I had multiple tenants complain.”

Sounded like a typical Red. “And this particular complaint is important to you?” He asked, glancing at Roman’s bright lifeline. It had barely a speck of grey to it at this moment.

The actor shrugged. “Before today? No. I had completely forgotten it until….” He pointed to the door as young Roman opened it, focusing on the young man swaying in the doorway. “Logan brought it up.” 

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Your coffee boy?” He looked to dark-haired male. The figure standing in Roman’s doorway hardly looked like the hot-tempered--he squinted, pulling the lifeline up for view --”GAH!” He dropped the line like it was a live snake. 

Roman jumped, whirling to him. “What?” 

Thomas shuddered, taking a step back. How had he not noticed that lifeline before this point? “I can see why you don’t want this interaction to happen.” 

The actor raised an eyebrow. “Why would you say that?”

Thomas made a face. “His lifeline is...well red at this point, but it goes…” He rubbed his hands against his uniform, trying to get the greasy feeling off his fingers. “Black.” He whispered. 

Influential. But not in a good way. Trouble. Heartbreak. Agony. Death. Even though all colors were needed in the rainbow of time, the Time Genies actively avoided interacting with black lines on principal. It was a waste of Time Energy to even try to help them. 

Roman exhaled, turning back to the figures yelling in the doorway. “Does it stay black?” 

Thomas blinked. “Stay?” He glanced to the future, his eyebrows shooting upwards. _Impossible._ A color change? Black lines didn’t change once they went dark. “It….it shifts to a midnight blue.” His gaze sharpened. Just after Roman came back into the coffee boy’s life actually. 

The tense muscles in Roman’s back relaxed. “That’s good?”

“Blue is good, yes. But this is….it’s very rare. Once a lifeline goes black it shouldn’t change.”   
But Logan’s had. Thomas frowned to the boy in the doorway. He didn’t know how, but Roman had managed to pull the coffee boy’s future out of its dark downward spiral. 

“Well then.” Roman flashed Thomas a grin. “If it’s already changed once...why not see if I can keep it from going black in the first place?” He asked, rolling his shoulders, moving towards his past self. “Same drill as the first time right? Just merge with myself?” 

Keep it--Thomas fought to keep his skin from turning purple. Roman was trying to change _Logan’s life?!_

He grabbed the actor by the shoulder just before he entered his younger self, pulling him back to face him.. “You can’t be seriou--” He was. Thomas could see it from the glint in the Roman's eyes. 

REDS. 

He tsked, dropping his hand. Why was he even trying? He already knew this warp was going to end in Green. “You’re supposed to be changing your own choices, Roman. Not theirs!” 

Thomas jabbed a hand to the yelling coffee boy. “Remember you have to keep _all three_ of these decisions you make. If this goes wrong--” He gestured to the necklace he knew Patton had given him. “You lose the change you made in your best friend’s life.” How would Roman feel, knowing that Patton could have become a famous doctor yet being unable to see that timeline realized because of a foolish decision! 

Roman brushed the crown necklace, before dropping his hand to the shimmering pocket watch. He took a breath, lifting his chin, squaring his shoulders. “Well...I won’t mess it up then.” He said, giving Thomas a grin as he took a step back into himself just as Logan punched the young actor in the face, the two Roman’s flashing gold as they merged. 

Thomas shook his head, reluctantly grabbing the two red lifelines up once more. “But you will.” He whispered, glancing to Logan’s black lifeline, his heart fluttering as he watched it, waiting to see if it changed, waiting for the golden sparks on the actor’s lifeline to flash. 

It was stupid, to...to want to believe in Roman. That it would all turn out well. 

But how could it? 

Despite the actor’s good intentions...he would end up no different from any of the others. After all, Thomas’s Warps always ended in Green.


	16. Back to the Past -Take Two

Roman blinked the stars from his eyes, wincing as he felt the tender skin, his other hand already forming a fist in retaliation as he straightened, adrenaline coursing through him. 

Okay...he probably should have merged just a little bit quicker to avoid getting the black eye from Logan. 

Though really, that was the least of his worries in the long run. He had smudged the bruise with makeup the first time around, making it look like he was covered in soot for his audition as Bert. He’d gotten the part. Knowing that...he could deal with feeling the pain once more.

Roman took a breath, fighting against the fury rising up within him. Focus. Save Logan. Prevent him from going to jail. No pressure or anything when he desperately wanted to knock him into the next century. 

“THAT. WAS. MY. FACE. SPECS!” He raised his fist, adjusting the angle for a right hook instead of an uppercut and surged forward, catching Logan in the cheek, nearly knocking him off his feet. “Eye for an Eye. Nerd.” He snarled. 

Logan shoved away from the wall, reddened eyes burning as he flexed his fingers, ignoring the trail of blood dripping from under his frames. “Last I checked, Prep, I have four. You punched two. THEREFORE.” He slammed into Roman, knocking him off his feet so the two of them tumbled into his apartment as A Girl Worth Fighting For began blaring. “NOT. EVEN.” 

Roman grunted as his head hit the tile, barely managing to twist to the side to avoid Logan giving him a second black eye. What sort of logic was that?! Four Eyes? Did Lo just really call himself that? He pulled up his legs, catching Specs in the stomach, sending him flying over his head deeper into his apartment, his coffee boy skidding along the tile to rest at the carpet marking the living room. “Dude. You’re drunk.” He said, rolling to his feet.

Specs struggled to stand, his glasses hanging from one ear. He wobbled, sneezing as he stumbled against the counter that divided the kitchen from the living room, going cross eyed as he tried to focus on Roman. “I DON’T DRINK! I’M-” He violently sneezed, nearly banging his head on the countertop. “Fine.” He gasped out, shoving himself upright, raising his fists. He glared at Roman. “FINE! I’M FINE!” 

Riiiiight. Roman raised an eyebrow. _Right._ Logan had mentioned it was….Nyquil right? Cold Medicine. His roommates had overdosed him. 

“You’re picking a fight with me, YOU’RE HARDLY FINE.” He pulled his front door shut with a loud bang, shaking the walls as he advanced on Specs. 

Logan couldn’t hurt anyone else in here at least. He’d been between roommates due to the others moving out a couple weeks earlier; the other university having had its finals at the beginning of the month.

“YOU’RE TOO NOISY!” Logan screamed, flinging the peanut butter jar at Roman’s head. “NOT BE QUIET! I’LL SHUT YOU UP!”

Roman ducked, feeling the jar skim the top of his head as it crashed into the door behind him. Wait. Too noisy. Was the noise triggering Logan? Yelling certainly hadn’t helped the first time around. Maybe...Roman twisted, nearly getting smacked in the face by the bread as he reached out, pausing his Ipod. 

He turned to Logan, the sudden quiet in the apartment jarring to his adrenaline filled senses. “And now who’s the one yelling?” He asked, keeping his tone low. “Cus I’m not, Specs.” 

Logan hesitated, Crofters in hand as he blearily blinked at Roman, head tilting like a confused puppy dog. “Quiet?” He mumbled, the anger fading from his eyes as he hugged the jam to his chest. “Hush. Shush. Shhhhh?” 

“Yes. Shhh.” Roman soothed, cautiously approaching the Nerd. 

“Oh.” Logan looked down, looking like a lost child. “Jam?” He mumbled, tilting the jar, his eyes widened, a delighted smile spreading across his blood streaked face. _“CROFTERS!”_ He whisper-shouted. He looked up. “You like Crofters?!” 

Roman blinked, shaking his head with a small laugh. “Yah? You like it too I take it, Nerd?” 

Logan nodded, possessively holding it closer, hazy eyes glittering. _“Mine now.”_ He said in Roman’s voice. 

He jerked, eyes widening. “How--” He’d thought Lo had learned that skill in prison! 

_“As Payment. Yes?”_ Logan demanded before returning to his normal tone. “For you’re all Noise NOISE Noise.” 

Roman eyed the Crofters in his hands, slowly exhaling to release the remaining anger he felt from being punched. 

That was his last jar. But...if it came down to having his jam to himself or Logan safely away from prison? Well. There was no choice there. “Yah man, you can have it. _If._ ” He blocked the way with his arm as Logan took an unsteady step towards him. “You sit here and don’t leave until the jar is empty. Deal?” 

The Nerd sneezed in response, rubbing his nose against his shirt. “K.” Logan dropped to the floor, kneeling there like a child as he dug two fingers into the jar. “Eat first. Then I’ll go study.” He said, sticking reddened fingers in his mouth, his eyes closing in bliss. “Mmmmm.” 

Roman gaped at him, slowly grabbing the washcloth to soak his eye. He hadn’t meant it quite like that. “Sure you don’t want to...I don’t know? Eat that with a spoon? Or make a sandwich?” 

Logan raised the jar to his lips and tilted his head back, taking a large gulp. “M’good.” 

Roman winced, leaning against the wall. Pressing the cool cloth to the bruise he could feel forming. Geez. He’d been hoping the jar would keep Logan here for the rest of the night, but at this rate? “Careful.” 

Logan lowered the jar, adjusting his glasses as he opened his eyes. “It’s fine!” He gestured to the jar. “Experimented before. One jar won’t hurt.” 

Experimenting? With eating Crofters? Logan was crazier than he gave the coffee boy credit for. He tilted his head. “And how many jars before it does hurt?” 

“Mmm...Six? No,” His brows furrowed as he fought back a yawn, looking at his hand he counted under his breath before grinning triumphantly holding up four jam stained fingers. “NINE! HA!” 

He was such a Nerd. Roman pushed away from the wall, edging around Logan to grab a blanket off the couch. “Well, you only get one today, Specs. I don’t have any more.”

_“A true crime.”_ Logan muttered, again using Roman’s voice, as he fell back, laying on the floor, his head resting on the carpet as he stared up at the ceiling, blinking one eye at a time. _“Noooo moooreee Crofterssss.”_ He singsonged as Roman, wiggling a finger in the air. _“Ooonnllly Jeelly. iiinnn my Belly. Only Jelly. CROFTERS!!”_

Roman stumbled, nearly tripping over the blanket as it dragged on the floor. Logan could sing too?! How--Why was this kid not in the theatre department? BioChem ShmioChem. He had talent. 

“Not bad, Specs.” He complimented, tossing the old blanket over him. “Maybe save your voice for tomorrow though. You have a final tomorrow right? Speaking? I could help you run lines.” 

Logan snorted, rolling on his side resting his head on one arm, oblivious to the blanket half covering his face. “I don’t sing.” 

“You just did.”

“IT’S WRITING! HISTORY! NOT SINGING!” Logan flung one arm up into the air, slinging Crofters from the jar to splatter against the wall. _“At Seven in the Morning, Dear Ones.”_ He added in a feminine tone. One that sounded…

Where at Roman heard that voice before? He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Though the odds were that Logan was mimicking a teacher. “Seven A.M.? That’s rough buddy.”

Logan closed his eyes, dropping his arm and jam to the tile. “Yes. Toooooo eeeeaaarrlllyyyy for thinkiiinnng, DottyDot!” He complained, sniffling as he brought the Crofters back to his lips. 

DottyDot? No, it couldn’t be. “The Theater teacher?” He’d worked with her mostly in his first semester of college. How had a BioChem student ended up taking a class from her?

Logan tilted his head back, looking up at Roman, his mouth smeared with jelly. “No. She teaches Hissstoractal Lit.” He slurred, blinking his eyes one at a time. “HIiissstory. Poooems. Lotsa names annnddd plllaaces, peoples, poeeeems, prrrrrograms, p--” He stuck his jelly covered fingers back in his mouth, effectively cutting himself off though he still tried to speak around his fingers. 

Huh. He hadn’t known...well he’d known Miss D’s fondness for poetry, but Roman hadn’t known it went deep enough to include teaching classes. What were the odds? But if he could keep Logan from leaving the apartment until the effects of the Nyquil wore off, he’d take it. 

Roman smirked, grabbing his cell phone from the kitchen counter. “Well, I think I can buy you some time, Specs. You’re in no shape to wake up that early for your test.” An understatement with him sick and not reacting well to the Nyquil. “Lemme see if I can help you out.”

“Help? You already...did--It’s ALL QUI--” Logan cut off shushing himself, eyes closing. “All quiet.” He whispered. “All good. I’ll study fine.” 

Mhmm sure. “Dude you’re practically asleep already.” He said putting the phone to his ear. “You can study in the morning.” 

“Nooooo” Logan mumbled. “Stuuuudddyyy noowww.” 

But if Lo tried to study now… Would he end up in another fight? Would he end up in jail anyways? No, better to see if Roman could delay the studying, delay the final to ease up the pressure on Specs so the dude could rest.

The phone rang twice before a man’s voice answered with a sigh. “Mr. Sanders, I hope you have a good reason for disturbing me this evening.” 

Ah. His favorite Director. It had been too long since he’d heard his voice. “Larinold! Master Director of all things Fabulous and Fair!” Roman said, purposely making his voice upbeat chipper. “Could I speak to your wife? Kinda an emergency.” 

“E-mer-gen-cy? Ha!” Larry scoffed. “You only call if you ne--HEY!”

“What do you need, Ro?” Dot asked, taking over the phone.

“I was still speaking, Dot!”

“Quiet, Larry. He asked for me.” 

Ha. He’d figured she’d be nearby. Roman turned, leaning against the wall as he watched Logan drowsily place the Crofter’s jar against his lips, flicking his tongue out to lick the edge. “Hey Miss D! You have a final tomorrow morning, yah?” 

“I am giving four finals tomorrow, Ro....all of which I know you are not in because you haven’t had my class in two years.” 

“Exactamundo. You know a---” Crap. He actually wasn’t supposed to know Logan’s name. He covered the phone with his hand. “Psst. Specs. What’s your name?” 

Logan blinked at him, from over the lip of the jar, before slowly pointing to himself. “Me?” 

It was going to be a long night. Roman rolled his eyes. “Yah, Genius. You.” 

“Roman Sanders. If this is some sort of prank ca--”

He blanched. “Ah No! NO. Dot.” He pleaded. “You know I wouldn’t do that to you, it’s just...I have a student of yours in my apartment right now who has a final in your seven am class.” 

“HI DOTTY DOT!! YOUR CLASS IS VERY EARLY!” Logan suddenly yelled, pushing himself up onto one elbow before letting out a loud sneeze. _“TOOO EARRRLLY”_ He singsonged in her voice.

“....Is that….Logan? Logan Banner?” 

Roman exhaled in relief. Yes. “Maybe? Does he has black rimmed glasses? Dark hair? Mimics others? Has quite the nerdy attitude?” 

“Sounds like the Logan in my seven am class, yes. He usually doesn’t mimic me though. What’s wrong with him?” 

“Great. Well. Not great for him. Great you know him.” Roman shook his head. “He’s delirious currently. Pretty sure he’s sick and drugged up on--”

“NOT DRUGGED. ALLLLLL I TAKED WAS NYQUIL. ROOOMMATES SAY IT’S FINE. I’M FINE.” Logan struggled to his feet, clutching the blanket around his shoulders with one hand, the other saluting with the Crofter’s jar. “I FINE DOTTY DOT!” He fell back into her voice. _“IT’S ALL GOOD HERE.”_

Dot made a humming noise. “He’s trying a bit too hard to sound fine, I think.” 

“Exactly.” Roman agreed, pushing Specs away, fending him off with the cold washcloth as he tried to grab the phone. “Dude, I thought you wanted quiet.”

“I DO AND I FI--” He sneezed. “Fine. I’m fine.” He whispered, swaying, his eyes fluttering closed before snapping back open. 

Ah huh. Sure. “He’s dead set about making it to your final, Miss D.” Roman said, guiding Logan to the couch. “Sit.” He told him. “But I don’t feel he’s of sound mind currently, and I don’t know when the uh...Nyquil will wear off. He might disrupt his classmates if he’s still under the effects that early.” If he didn’t sleep through it. 

She sighed. “Roman, you know I don’t make exceptions.” 

And he couldn’t have Logan end up in jail. “Name your price.” He pressed the washcloth back to his eye, watching as Logan curled up on the couch, resting his head against the back of it. “Anything’s on the table. I don’t want him to fail because of his roommates and getting more sleep could help him recover faster.”

She hummed, thoughtfully. “You’ve grown rather attached to him, rather quickly, Ro, considering you didn’t know his name two minutes ago.”

He watched Logan bring the jar of jelly back up to his lips, downing the contents like a castaway who’d just found water. “Please?” It wasn’t like he could explain the whole time travel thing to her. 

There was silence on her end of the phone. Then. “I have theater students taking their stage combat final at nine tomorrow morning, Ro. Come be their opponent and I’ll let Logan join my other Historical Lit class to take his final at two. Deal?” 

His heart dropped like a lead weight. 

Nine?

The auditions for Mary Poppins started at nine. He wouldn’t be able to show up there early. He’d be late. He might even miss it...how long had it taken the first time for them to go through everyone? He hadn’t paid attention having auditioned within the hour. 

“Roman?” 

He let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes. It was just one audition. There were hundreds of them in his future. But Logan? He might not get another chance.

For Logan. For His Future. 

“Ya--” he cleared his throat. “Yah, I’ll be there Miss D. You can count me in.”


	17. Moonlighting CEO

“Sooooo?” Logan asked, his voice echoing oddly in the room..

Roman worked to keep his breathing steady, fighting the hollow feeling in his stomach as he hung up. _For Logan._ He nodded to himself, keeping his eyes shut. “Congrats Specs.” He said, placing both the phone and washcloth on the counter. It would be alright. He’d figure it out for his audition. “You can rest easy. Your final’s been moved to two.” 

A cool touch gently rested on his shoulders, tugged him backwards before he heard a response.

Roman gasped, shivering as the familiar wave of cold washed over him. Gah. COLD! His heart jumped into his throat as he opened his eyes in time to see the rainbow timestream vanishing like fog clearing on a sunny day, leaving him with his hands resting on an unfamiliar cherry stained tabletop. 

_This wasn't the vanity in his dressing room for Phantom._

His knees buckled, sending him to the floor with a muffled moan as his stomach tried to twist itself inside out, all of his muscles contracting violently enough that Roman found himself curled into a ball, gasping for breath as chills ran up and down his back, sending ice along his cuts and scrapes.

_Adjusting to the new timeline._

He remembered the Genie saying his body would react to changes, but this...it was like suffering from a bad case of food poisoning on top of running marathon.

Fire shot into Roman’s wrist, burning like a hot coal had been placed on his skin. He jerked, inhaling raggedly as he painfully twisted his arm to see the burning spot bubbling like boiling water, inky colors rising up and spreading across his skin to form two bumblebees, one holding a comedy mask, the other a tragedy mask, while above the insects ‘To Bee or Not To Bee’ scrawled itself into his skin in an elegant script. 

A tattoo? Roman blinked, moving a shaky finger to touch the mark. Why would he--he shuddered, sides aching as he gasped for breath, his mind whirling as memories from the new timeline crashed down on his head.

“--And then! Apollos proclaimed in that _‘I’m famous you need to obey me’_ snooty tone of his. ‘YOU CAN’T ECLIPSE THE GREAT APOLLOS WITH A NOBODY!’” An unfamiliar--no it was familiar--voice proclaimed. 

Roman remembered hearing it before. It was...He tilted his head, partially straightening from his curled position as Remy laughed, sprawling across the dressing table above him, his foot idly tapping Roman’s shoulder. “And you can bet who interrupted our Resident Diva.” 

Roman worked to gather his breath, no longer from the effects of the timestream, but from laughing so hard tears were streaming down his cheeks. His mouth twitched in a smile. “Jericho….interrupted?” He asked, vaguely picturing the easy going understudy to the Diva aka Apollos who played Jefferson in Hamilton. 

_Wait._

HAMILTON!? He was in Hamilton?! How--Oh. He’d been unable to make auditions the first time around due to his contracted role as the Phan--shoot. Roman's stomach twisted unpleasantly. 

Because he was here now...that had to mean...he hadn’t gotten the role. 

The memory whirled up to the forefront of his mind, almost the same as the original timeline. The corners of his eyes tightened. He had made the same mistake as the first time around. He’d been late to the audition due to both a heavy rainstorm and his bike running out of gas in the middle of crossing a bridge.

The difference between getting and not getting the role? 

Money. He’d been strapped for cash in this timeline and couldn’t afford to grab a taxi. Instead he’d ran through the rain to the audition, managing to arrive just as his name was being called for the final time. 

He hadn’t had the chance to freshen up or get into the zone...and it had shown. 

There had been no callback this time around. Instead, Roman had gone on to try out for Hamilton and landed a small part with Remy as one of the Ensemble. 

Remy laughed, rolling on his side, arm dropping over the side of the table. “Jerry interrupted! ‘You can’t replace Apollos!’ Our sweet summer child cried in that whiny tone he gets when he’s trying to please.” He twisted his hand, brushing Roman’s hair as he pulled himself back to his feet, shifting his body to give Roman a place to put his hands on the narrow table. 

“But then he had to add- ‘Only I can replace him!’” Remy gave an elegant gasp, going into a mock swoon, the back of his hand over his eyes. He chuckled, sitting up. “Like Gurl. What a way to burst ya man’s bubble.” 

Roman snorted, fighting to not break down in giggles again as he grabbed the chair using it as a stool so he could remove his boots easier. “Did Snotty McGuile burst a vein?” 

Served Apollos right. Walking out with Jericho, his understudy, the same evening their Hamilton ended up in the hospital with Appendicitis, while his understudy sat in a jail cell for drug possession and a DUI. 

Roman had seen Apollos and Jericho show up just before the curtains rose. He’d heard their rising voices quickly muffled as the music started, but they’d vanished before the final curtain. Only now could he get the story from Remy as to why they’d dared come back and what had happened during the show.

“Not quite. Apollocitio turned red as a tomato at least. But what can you expect from the smitten couple? He lets things slide.”

“Two peas in a pod they are.” Roman shook his head, setting his boots under the table, lightly touching the tattoo on his wrist, before moving his hand up to his neck where the crown necklace rested, his fingertips brushing over smooth skin. 

Huh. The wound on his neck was gone. He rolled his shoulders. From the lack of pain...he and Logan hadn’t gotten into that fight in this timeline. He raised a hand to his hair, much longer now, nearly touching his shoulders, the perfect length for Hamilton. 

Butterflies danced in his stomach. Hamilton. He’d just come off stage from playing the lead, having convinced Kail, their Director, that he could fill in until Michelangelo recovered. 

Remy grinned wide as he pushed up to one elbow. “Ha! More like two berries in a patch. You should have seen the color drain from their faces when yah man, LoLo rapped his way into stardom. Quickest tongue in the East! Their heckling about bringing in a ‘nobody who doesn’t know the difference from stage left and stage right’ hushed up right quick.”

Logan? Logan was on Broadway with him? Roman brushed the tattoo again, hiding his confusion with a smirk when no answers came. “What? Apollocalpyse thought we couldn’t replace him for his rapping skills? As if.”

Remy languidly leaned against the mirror, playing with one of his curly locks as he idly shuffled through the familiar newspaper clippings of Roman’s New York research into the author who wrote _The Haunting of Anxiety,_ his eyes going sad as he trailed a finger around the image of Virgil. 

“Exactamundo! He thought we’d come begging on hands and knees and with buckets of money, but WHAM!” Remy shuffled the papers to hide the author’s face. “Denied!” 

Roman brushed his crown necklace again, also glancing at the clippings, chest growing tight. Remy had given him that picture of Virgil dressed in a black and purple suit. The dancer had known Virgil and had helped the young author with research when he’d worked at the Starbucks near the guy’s apartment. 

Remy had been the one to bring up the auditions for the movie to Roman this time around when they first met up for choreography camp. Said he had the right ‘spark.’ Ha. It had been a maddash to make it through traffic to the auditions on time, but Roman had gotten the minor role of ‘obnoxious next door neighbor.’ It was a far _far_ cry from being cast as the star. No London trip for him. Instead, he’d be filming in six weeks when the B-crew returned to the City for the flashback scenes. 

“And then?” He asked, jumping up onto the table to lean against the mirror with Remy. “Logan happened?” 

Remy touched the tip of his nose. “Yessiree! Apollocito looked positively gobsmacked when ya gurl, Lolo hardly seemed to breath on stage! That SPEED!!” He sighed, going starry eyed. ”Like Gurl! Apollocito’s baby blues nearly popped out of his head when he heard that!” He picked up a half empty Starbucks Cup, saluting Roman. “Way to go Ro. My darlin’ Prince of Surprises, How could you hide such a talented, tall, dark glass of yesness from Broadway?!” 

The door slammed open and a figure in a magenta coat darted inside, quickly shutting the door and locking it, cutting off the clamor of voices from the hallway. 

“Ah! Speak of the Angel and so he appears!” Remy proclaimed with a wicked smile, sliding off the table. “Our Savior of Rap, humbly gracing some of the Ensemble with his glorious presence. Having trouble with your new adoring fans?”

The figure growled, whirling, tugging fitfully at his coat, his long dark hair falling over his face. His tattooless face. “Angel? Hardly” He looked up, eyes flashing as he spotted Roman. “Next time you suggest I crash your Broadway play, Roman. Remind me to say No.” Logan growled, nearly pulling the buttons free of the jacket in his struggle to get it off. “How am I supposed to explain to my company that their CEO is now moonlighting on Broadway!” 

Roman snapped his mouth shut with a click, before Specs could see him sitting there positively slack-jawed. Logan?! This confident man who gave off an intelligent vibe, even while in Jefferson’s magenta colored coat, standing before him hardly looked like his wiry angry coffee boy. 

He huffed, blowing his own hair out of his eyes as he gave Lo the once over. Not going to Prison had done him good it seemed. Seeing that he was now...a CEO? 

Roman smirked, pushing off the table to come to Logan’s aid. “Oh come on, Lo. It’s not like I had to drag you from work to help me. You came quite willingly I recall. I did wonder where you’d vanished to though.” What was Logan the CEO of? He grabbed onto the coat, brushing Logan’s fingers with his own as he helped him remove it. 

A shiver ran through him as the touch instigated another flood of memories. CEO. Logan had created his own S.P.E.C.S Company, building it from the ground up after college. It originally specialized in creating environmentally friendly sources of energy. Though, he’d recently branched part of his company to help Pat out in researching safe natural medicines and creating better tech for hospitals.

“Moonlighting?” Remy grinned. “HoneyBee! Are you saying you’re joining the cast? That’s fantabularistic!” 

Logan blinked. “Fantabularistic?” He muttered under his breath, glancing to his wrist and the 221bee sherlock tattoo there. “That’s not a word.” He shook his head, meeting Roman’s eyes. “Where did you think I vanished off to, Ro? The Moon?” 

Roman pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Ah, I didn’t know you brought you rocket with you today, Lo. Here I was thinking you’d just returned to the labs.” 

“I wish. No.” 

“With how his new adoring fans swamped him? I still thought you were in the building, LoLo” Remy said. 

Logan glowered. _“Don’t call me that, RemRem.”_ He mimicked the dancer’s voice. 

Remy nearly dropped his cup. “WHAT?! Okay, Gurl first off all that voice thing was ah-may-zing! Can you teach that?” 

“Not really and No, I wasn’t swamped by...fans...until just barely.” Logan crossed his arms. “The Director, Kail, pulled me into his office as soon as I left the stage. Practically shoved a pen in my hand and contract in my face as soon as the door shut.” 

“YAS! You SIGNED?!” 

Logan flushed, ducking his head. “Why would I---”

Roman grinned, folding the coat over a chair as a memory sparked. “Why wouldn’t you? Who’s the one who went to the original cast production with specially designed glasses and specifically selected seats to secretly record the play so he could rewatch it whenev-mmmmphh” He cut off as Logan slapped a hand over his mouth. 

It was Lo’s obsession with the play that had inspired Roman to try out for it when auditions reopened. Why shouldn’t he try out for the one theater production that had actually caught Microsoft Nerd’s attention? 

It was also exactly for that reason he’d suggested bringing in Logan to play Jefferson. Not only had he memorized the songs within the day, but he also knew most of the scenes by heart. He’d heard Logan using his mimicking abilities to put on one man shows in the shower while they’d still been roommates.

_“Just announce it to the whole world why don’t you.”_ Logan hissed in Roman’s voice. 

Remy shoved off the table, falling to his knees at Logan’s feet, practically kissing his boots. “DUDE!! You gotta let me watch your bootleg! I’ve been dying to see the original cast! Is it in HD? Good quality? I toats need to know, LoLo.” 

Roman pulled the hand down, breaking free easily from his grip. “Remy is hardly the whole world, Specs.” 

Logan rolled his eyes, exhaling. “Point, I suppose.” He frowned down at the dancer, taking a step back. “How good are you at keeping secrets, Remus?” 

Remy pushed effortlessly to his feet, making a face. “Gurl, not cool. It’s Remy. I don’t need people asking me if I’m a werewolf.”

Logan ran a hand through his hair, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. “And I’m not LoLo. Don’t call me that and I don’t call you Remus. Deal?” 

Remy sent finger guns his way. “Totally. Deal. Uhh--”

“Call him Specs.” Roman offered, seeing Remy struggling with a nickname. “I do. He doesn’t mind it…as much.” 

He flashed a grateful smile, eyes sparking. “Deal, Specs! No more LoLo. I gots it.” He tapped his temple. “So the bootleg?” 

“You didn’t answer the question.” Logan stated, moving around the dancer to the table to grab a pair of black rimmed glasses from the drawer, quickly slipping them back on, completing the professional nerd look before he undid the ties of his shirt to remove the rest of his costume. 

Remy mimed zipping his mouth shut. “My lips are sealed.” 

“He’s going to tell our fellow dancer, Nate, as soon as he watches it.” Roman supplied, grabbing Lo’s clothes from the closet setting them on the desk. 

“HEY!”

“It’s the truth.” 

Remy moaned, falling against the wall. “Babe! You’re ruining my chances at seeing an actual good quality bootleg. HUSH. I’ll sign a contract to secrecy if needed, Specaroo. Just pu-lease. I need this. Like ‘I will totally die if you don’t show me’ need this.” 

Logan shook his head, raising an eyebrow to Roman as he adjusted his glasses. “Does he get this from you, or are all actors this dramatic?” 

“Scuse you, Honey.” Remy pushed off the wall, twirling to Lo with a ballerina’s grace. “I am a Dancer first. Acting is a side gig.”

“So he is always this dramatic.” Logan sighed, pinching his nose. “Like I need another extrovert in my life.” He smiled, holding out his hand to Remy. “Lucky you, I’m in need of someone to help me learn the production numbers since I’m now your official Jefferson. Teach me and I’ll let you see my copy.” 

Remy laughed, grabbing Logan’s hand. “You’re about to learn from the best, Specs! Come on! No time like the present.” He darted for the door, dragging a surprised Logan after him.

“Hey! Wait. Noooo. ROMAN!” His voice trailed down the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This chapter was written before Remus was introduced as a Side, so Remy's (Sleep) name was extrapolated to be Remus by Logan.


	18. All These Changes

The Warp had taken far too long. 

Thomas frowned, watching Roman from the edge of the timestream as the actor gave a soft laugh, leaning against the dressing table, his fingers brushing a pile of papers as he watched the door swing shut. 

And now Roman was paying the price. 

He should have known better than to mess with a black line. He should have worked harder to convince the actor that this was a decision that couldn’t change. Once a line went black. It stayed black.

But no, Thomas had to open his mouth and say that it had changed. He had to give Roman hope that he could improve Logan’s life. 

A hope, fully realized.

It had taken ages. He’d seen the tiny ripples in Roman’s lifelines as he’d altered the punch, as he brought Logan inside that tiny apartment, as he bargained with the young man about staying.

The line had stayed black.

The golden stars on Roman’s lifeline unflashing.

Until he’d seen the defeat in the actor’s posture. Seen the tensing in his shoulders as Roman closed his eyes. Preparing himself. Logan’s lifeline had stayed black...until Roman spoke.

“Yah, I’ll be there Miss D. You can count me in.” 

Only then had Logan’s lifeline quivered at the point it intersected with Roman’s, the darkness thick on the line fracturing and dissolving. 

And like a vampire draining blood from its victim...Roman’s lifeline faded. The brilliant blood red color washing out into a faint rose shade as Logan’s line grew more vibrant, ending up the same brilliant red as Roman’s had been seconds before. 

Influential. The CEO making huge strides in changing the world now that the black had completely gone.

Just like Roman’s stardom filled life. All his fame. Almost all of his influence. Gone. Just like that. 

It would be another decade at least before Roman would find his lifeline back to it’s brilliant red color. Mostly obtaining minor roles in the meantime and only a handful of leads to his name. 

Thomas hunched his shoulders, watching the smile fade from Roman’s face. 

The actor exhaled, turning back to the mirror, leaning forward to study his reflection, eyes unreadable.

Thomas grimaced. He didn’t need the ability to read minds to know that Roman wasn’t happy. He’d seen this a million times. That look. As soon as he appeared, Roman would be demanding for a way to fix it. 

A way that wouldn’t work.

Previous warps had never been satisfied with their attempt to fix things. 

And in the end, their warp would end up Green.

Roman, in his attempt to change Logan’s life...had officially made this a failed warp just like the others. A Green. Another tally mark that would drop Thomas lower in the ranks as a Time Genie. 

Steeling himself to face the inevitable, Thomas stepped out from the timestream, choosing to shimmer into view in the Ensemble’s dressing room instead of pulling Roman back into the rainbow current. 

If Roman was going to yell at him, it would be best to do it here where his past wouldn’t be popping up with options of things for him to change for his final decision. 

The Actor’s eyes flickered to Thomas’s reflection before lowering his head to look at his hands, his eyes unfocusing as his fingers curled slightly on top of the papers and pictures sitting there for his now minor role in _The Haunting of Anxiety_. 

Thomas opened his mouth, his reflection showing him shimmering with more greens and reds as he struggled with what to say. 

This was when he wished he could read his Warp’s minds. What was Roman thinking? What was he seeing in himself? 

Roman glanced up and quirked an eyebrow, a small smile playing on his lips as he slowly turned, crossing his arms as he sat back against the table. “You look like you’ve come to a funeral, G.” He said mildly. “I can’t have screwed up my life that badly.” 

Thomas blinked, fingers twitching. He’d expected anger. Not...a smile. “It will take you at least another decade to reach the same level of fame that you had before you made this choice.” He said, quietly.

Roman popped his lips, nodding thoughtfully. “Mmmm.” 

That...wasn’t the reaction he expected. “Mmmm?” He repeated. “Roman...you just--” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Just?” 

Thomas growled, throwing up his hands. How could he be taking this so calmly? Was the guy in shock? He had to be in shock. “You just threw your life away! And you’re standing there like it’s no big deal.”

“It’s not.” 

Thomas gaped at him. “It’s...not?” Great. He was sounding like a parrot now. But… “HOW is it NOT Important, Roman? You’re no longer famous! No one knows who you are.” He gestured around the dressing room. 

The actor exhaled, running a hand through his long hair. “Okay, it sucks, yes I admit it. But….” He hesitated, tilting his head, meeting Thomas's eyes. “You know…” He tapped a finger to his lips. “I haven’t asked yet, but do you have a name, Sparkles?” 

Thomas blinked. Where did that come from? “Huh?” 

Roman toed the ground with his foot. “Do you have a name?” He repeated. “Or is it like Aladdin and you're just known as Genie?” 

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “What does that have to do with anything?” What was with this actor? No one ever cared who their Time Genie was. They were usually content referring to him as Genie, or giving him a nickname like Roman had done with calling him Sparkles.

The actor shrugged. “Because I want to know. It doesn’t feel right for me to be calling you Sparkles when it’s serious talk time.” 

Oh. Wait. Serious talk time? “No, it's not Genie.” He hesitated. 

“... Can you not tell me? Is that another rule?”

Thomas shook his head, working to keep the rainbow on his skin under control, hiding his nerves. “No. No, it's not. It's just….No one's ever asked before.” No one ever cared. Why did Roman? He was an actor! They were notoriously self centered! Only...hadn’t he just used two life changing decisions to help his friends instead of himself? 

“I’m asking.” Roman gave him a soft smile. “What’s your name?” 

His stomach flip-flopped. He shouldn’t be feeling nervous. He was the Time Genie! He’d seen all sorts of lives and horrible circumstances and...he wasn’t sure what Roman would think of his name. It was...so common in the human world. Nothing mythical like Calypso, Talyn or even Joan. Even Roman’s name was more unique than his! What if he laughed? 

“My name…” He gave a one shoulder shrug, unable to hide his unease. “Is Thomas.” 

Roman's eyes lit up. “Thomas.” He repeated, the name rolling easily off his tongue. “It suits you.” 

He flushed, feeling red highlighting his cheeks and ears. “Thanks.” 

Roman inclined his head. “Is it just Thomas? Or do you Genies have last names too?” 

Thomas shrugged, fighting to keep the smile off his face. “It’s Thomas Sparkles.” 

Roman jerked, leaning forward, eyes wide. “No way! I--” He cut off as Thomas ducked his head, his body shimmering golden yellow as a muffled laugh escaped him. 

He hadn’t actually thought Roman would believe him. 

The actor clicked his tongue, flushing. “Okay, you got me with that one. Though truthfully I was expecting Rainbow or Clock or something.” 

“R-rainbow?” Thomas snorted, losing control of his laughter once more. That was the stupidest thing he’d heard. Just because he had the coloration of one didn’t mean he’d use it as a name.

Roman grinned, his own laugh joining in with Thomas. “Hey, how was I supposed to know?” 

He wasn’t. Though it made sense. Last names were quite popular among the humans. “It’s just Thomas. Genies don’t have last names.” 

“They don't? How---wouldn’t it get confusing if there was another Genie named Thomas?” 

Thomas shrugged. “If there were more of us, maybe.” But Genies were hardly a cup of water in the ocean that was humanity. Having the same name as a another Genie just didn’t happen. 

“Good to know.” Roman exhaled, shaking his head. “But really, Thomas.” He suddenly pushed away from the desk, taking him by the shoulders, a soft smile on his lips. “Relax okay? You showed up looking like I just told you Christmas was canceled and it’s not.”

Thomas stood frozen, eyes wide. He’d been expecting a physical punch here. Not an emotional one. Was the actor….trying to comfort him?

“Dude.” Roman let go, spreading his hands peacefully. “I know I was hot-headed and self-centered when I was younger but…” He shrugged. “I’d liked to think I’ve grown out of that...at least a little since then.” He brushed the crown necklace. “A setback in my acting career isn’t ideal, no. But Patton’s a doctor now instead of a homebody sitting in a wheelchair. Logan is a CEO of his own company instead of a criminal.” He shrugged, resting a hand on the table once more brushing the papers stacked there. “That’s all because of me. Because you, Thomas, gave me the chance to do so. Patton. Logan.” He said the names fondly. “They’re changing the world more than I ever could on stage. It’s definitely worth it to lose a little fame, to see them living better lives.” 

Thomas inhaled shakily, blinking the tears from his eyes. Maybe...maybe this warp wouldn’t end up Green after all. “...You haven’t even made your third choice yet.” He whispered. “How can you be so confident it will all work out?” 

Roman grinned, taking a hold of the watch, the device glowing between his fingers indicating he’d already made his third choice. Again with no further help from the timestream. “Confident? Hardly. But I’m an Actor. I’m good at pretending.” He said, his voice ringing in Thomas’s ears as the timestream surrounded them once more.


	19. The Third Original Choice

_“Stu-pid. BIKE!” Roman kicked the tire on his motorcycle. “Why now?! Why DIE ON ME NOW?! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU HAD NO GAS BEFORE I LEFT?!”_

_It was his own fault, of course. It’d felt like he’d been running on fumes for the past week as he eked out every little drop he could from the tank because he had no funds to buy gas, but still! Why now?! Why not run out AFTER his audition? Why decide to sputter to a halt halfway across a bridge far far away from anywhere remotely useful. Like his audition. Or you know… a gas station._

_He glanced at his phone, cursing. He was going to be late! Shoving his useless hunk of metal as far off to the side of the bridge as he could, Roman kicked down the stand, pulling the keys from the ignition._

_“Stay.” He ordered the bike, pointing to it before he whirled, breaking into a run._

_Four miles away. He could make it. Totally a jog in the park._

_Thunder rumbled in the distance, dark storm clouds swirling over the ocean threatening to hit the city. Roman grimaced, forcing his aching legs to move faster across the bridge, his lungs already burning, struggling to get air._

_Please. Please. Don’t hit yet. He couldn’t show up to the audition soaking wet!_

_If only he had the money to afford a taxi. Nine of them had already passed by, mocking him. He wouldn’t have to worry about the rain if he flagged one down. But noo. He barely had two dollars to his name. Not enough to get off the bridge, let alone get to his audit--_

_His foot caught the raised edge of the roadway._

_SHOOT!_

_Roman yelped, automatically ducking his head, tumbling head over heels three times before landing on his back, staring up at the stormy sky, his vision swirling. He groaned, head lolling to the side, staring at the opposite side of the bridge where orange cones and construction tape blocked off a section of railing that had been damaged. A purple and black figure hovered there on the wrong side of the railing, a single hand holding onto the crumpled metal, their back to the road, overlooking the water below like a stormy sentinel._

_Roman blinked, vision fuzzing further and frowned, closing his eyes. How...could someone hover...What the?_

_A semi’s horn blared, loud and close. Roman cried out, eyes shooting open as he jerked back, scrambling to get to his feet, gripping onto the metal railing for dear life as the truck roared by._

_His heart hammering in his throat, Roman stared wide eyed after the truck. That was close. He could have been roadkill!_

_He bared his teeth, pushing away from the railing, shaking his fist, just as lightning cracked overhead. ‘HEY I’M RUNNING HERE!” He yelled. Geez. He rubbed the back of his head, glancing across the roadway where he’d seen the figure. Only the storm clouds met his eyes. Huh. He could have sworn---_

_Roman violently shook is head. GAH! HE HAD AN AUDITION TO GET TO! This was no time to stand there daydreaming about mystic stormy sentinels watching the storm come in from the ocean._

_Gritting his teeth, he took off, running along the side of the bridge, careful to keep his eyes on the ground to avoid another tumble._

_Come on. Come on!_

_Lightning flashed over his head, the ominous rumble of thunder following right after as he finally made it off the bridge and turned right. Six more blocks. Then Left. Another seven blocks. He could make it before the rain hit!_

_….He couldn’t make it._

_Roman was only three blocks away from the bridge when he felt the first raindrops hit. Half a block later the sky unleashed it’s fury, the wind kicking up the deluge of rain so it pelted Roman from every direction, soaking him instantaneously._

_This sucked! He dug in, lungs struggling for air as he raced the ticking clock, nearly causing another accident as he darted across the sidewalk when the light was still green._

_“SORRY!” He yelled over his shoulder, not stopping as he splashed through puddle after puddle forming from the thick rain, his shoes squelching with every step._

_There! The building he was looking for. Finally._

_“--ast Call? Roman Sanders? Roman Sanders?” A stuffy woman’s voice rang through the air as Roman darted in the door, staggering to a stop, hands on his knees._

_“H-Here!” He called, forcing himself to straighten, brushing his dripping hair out of his eyes as he sent the woman his most winning smile. “I’m ready.”_

_He so wasn’t ready._


	20. Back to the Past -Take Three

Roman couldn’t describe the relief he felt as the timestream vanished once more, leaving him and the Gen--Thomas standing on the narrow ledge of the bridge where his bike had broken down. 

He let out a slow breath, relaxing his grip on the watch, watching as his past self struggled to get the bike going again. 

It had worked. 

He was actually here.

“Okay….I know you’ve picked this time and place so you can help someone beside yourself, Roman.” Thomas said slowly, glancing around, the opalescent sheen to his skin swirling with more orange and greens. “But...I only see you here.” The crease between his eyes deepened as he stared at the air around him. “Only you.” He repeated, heedless of the cars and semis driving by. 

“That makes sense, I suppose.” Roman replied with a nod, chewing on his bottom lip. If Thomas saw no one else nearby….had he really just imagined it? No, he couldn’t believe that. The watch had let him come here after all. That meant there was a choice here he could change. 

He set his jaw. A choice he _would_ change. 

“You’re nervous.” Thomas said, eyeing him with concern. “What is there here to be nervous about?” 

Roman twitched, flashing the Genie a quick smile. Oops. He was supposed to be keeping up the reassuring front for Thomas. The dude hadn’t taken the consequences of his last choice that well, acting like he had expected him to want a do over. 

Maybe if the pocketwatch had found him a year or so earlier....he would have. 

“Roman?”

“Ha.” Roman shrugged, ducking his head, shifting his feet as his past self gave up on starting the bike, moving it as far out of the way of traffic as possible. “Well...it’s like going into a blind audition, I guess. I...I don’t know what to expect with this one.” 

How could he? He only had theories and coincidental proof that he’d been in the right spot at the right time...and failed to act. 

Thomas laid a hand on his shoulder, offering him a hesitant smile. “But you know how it went the first time around, this choice you want to change.” He gestured to his past self. “It’s not really blind for you because you already know the situation. Change the choice you made here and you change the outcome. That’s your guideline. ” 

True. Only...he wasn’t sure there was someone there to help here. Thomas hadn’t sensed anyone. It could all be in his head after all. 

Roman exhaled, forcing himself to relax. “Right.” 

Standing here would offer him no answers. He had to act. 

“Good luck, Roman.” Thomas pulled his hand back, his eyes taking on a faint golden glow as his skin shifted in tone to match. “Go make your choice.” 

His past self broke into a run, darting along the side of the bridge in a mad dash to get to his audition on time.

An audition that in the current altered timeline, would mean no callback for him. Which meant if he arrived just a little bit later...it wouldn’t change anything in his life beyond the possibility of not auditioning for the part at all. 

Roman nodded and shot Thomas a grin. “Cya in a few, Sparkles.” He said, breaking into a run to chase after his past self, only managing to catch up with past Roman just as he tripped over a jutting piece of sidewalk.

He groaned, blinking golden sparks from his vision, his body once more aching as the tingling of the merge faded from his skin. 

“I need to stop doing that.” He muttered, head lolling to the side. Not that it mattered. This was his third and final merg---his breath caught as lightning flashed showing him the briefest of glimpses of a shadowy figure hovering on the other side of the bridge near the construction cones. His clothing nearly blending in with the storm clouds over the water. 

_The stormy sentinel._

A horn blared, loud and obnoxious.

The semi. 

Roman rolled away from the truck and pushed to his feet, whirling back to face the other side of the bridge. Barely glancing at the oncoming cars, he darted across four lanes of traffic, heading for where he thought he’d seen the figure standing.

Lightning flashed again, the light shining on a pale hand just as it let go of the railing. 

“NO!” He yelled, hurdling the construction, leaping the last two feet, heart jumping into his throat as his reaching fingers snagged a black and purple plaid sleeve. 

_Virgil._

Roman grunted as his stomach slammed into the railing, the twisted metal digging into his stomach, nearly knocking the breath out of him. His other hand quickly snatched onto more of the jacket, his fingers going white as he struggled to keep his grip. “No. You. Don’t!” He huffed, pulling at the young man as he dangled limply over the dark water below where the lights from cargo ships passed by underneath without any idea what was happening overhead. 

The figure looked up, showing the familiar pale face framed by dark hair that Roman had spent hours studying in photos. His wide, dark eyes staring up at him in shock as his mouth opened in a silent question. 

Roman tugged harder, pulling at the sleeve as he met Virgil’s eyes. “You’re going to live to see yourself famous. Mark my words!” He said as lightning cracked above them.

Come on. Just a little bit more. Just a little---

The railing groaned, giving off a screech as the compromised metal collapsed under their combined weight, sending both of them over the edge before Roman could blink.

NO!

Virgil screamed, his limbs flailing in the air as Roman pulled him close, maneuvering himself so that he was under the young scriptwriter, his back to the water and a small cargo ship passing by below them. 

_Please let them hit water._

“I got you.” Roman promised, bracing himself for impact.

_Please let Virgil live._

His back slammed into wood, shards flying every which way as they fell through it, the force of impact breaking Virgil from his grip, pulling them apart. 

Roman screamed out in agony as he hit something else in the darkness, the impact flipping him over, sending him face first into more boxes hidden below the deck. 

He landed with a loud BANG that reverberated through the air, his scream abruptly cutting off as something sharp dug into his neck like an exploding volcano, leaving him struggling to breathe through the fire raging in his throat

Roman went limp as wood and other debris rained down on top of him, his world vanishing in a whirlwind of pain, darkness, and the faintest of rainbows.


	21. Falling

_Agony._

_______Lightning._

_Falling._

_______Thunder._

_Burning._

_______Lightning._

_Falling._

_______Burning._

_Agony._

_______Thunder._

_Falling._

______Falling._

____________Fal  
______________li  
_______________ng._

___________________F  
___________________A  
____________________L  
_____________________L  
_____________________I  
_____________________N  
_____________________G_

____________________ **BANG!**_

Roman jolted awake as thunder crashed outside his window, the faint pattering of rain tapping against the glass. Shreds of rainbow swirled in his vision as lightning flashed, showing him a brief glimpse of a bedroom with modest furniture before everything faded back to shadows. 

He flinched, lungs heaving quick and shallow as thunder rumbled overhead, shaking the walls. 

_Falling._

He twisted, stretching out his hand, reaching fingers landing on a familiar cold metal surface resting on the end table. 

His crown necklace. 

_Happy Thoughts._

_Happy Thoughts._

Roman pulled the necklace close to his chest, near the pocket watch still hanging from its chain around his neck. His thumb rested on the hidden flash drive as he threw the covers off, staggering from the bed, clutching the crown like a lifeline. 

_Happy Thoughts_

Get away. He had to get away from that horrible sensation of falling, the sound of thunder and...the pain that came after.

His right leg protested after two steps, sending Roman to the ground as it buckled under his weight. 

_Broken._

No.

_Healed._

_Still recovering._

He swallowed, his throat burning as his other hand dug into the carpet, trying to breath through the needles stabbing into his leg. 

Temporary. 

Roman gritted his teeth, back arching as another wave of agony rushed through him. He gasped, no sound escaping from his lips. 

It would... go away. The pain was just from his body adjusting to the new timeline.

_But he’d fallen off a bridge._

_Crashed into a boat._

_He’d---_

A lamp clicked on in the corner of the room. 

“You nearly died.” Thomas said in a monotone.

Died? Roman shuddered, clutching the pendant tighter as he turned his head to the Genie.

He looked nearly as awful as Roman felt. 

Thomas stood at the edge of the bed, hands at his sides. The rainbow opalescent colors usually darting along his skin were barely sparkling, their coloration an even and deliberate mixture of all colors. His head was bowed, the fringe of his hair hiding his eyes. “You ended up fracturing your right leg in three places and broke most of your ribs. It’s a miracle you weren’t paralyzed.” 

Roman could believe that. He had fallen onto a ship instead of into the water. It was a miracle he hadn’t died. 

He relaxed his grip on the crown and pushed himself slowly upright to kneel on the carpet. Was it because he was in the middle of a Warp with the Genie? Could you not die on these things? What about--his heart skipped a beat. _Virgil._ What about Virgil? Had he survived? What had happened to him? 

“Your heart stopped four times.” Thomas continued, keeping his inflection neutral. “Patton was at his wits end helping the other doctors keep you alive as they stitched your broken body back together.” He slowly looked up, golden eyes shimmering. “You spent six months in a coma and….” He glowered at Roman’s hand, the red in his skin flashing. 

A coma? Well...that explained why his memories were...blank. Roman glanced to his hand, raised an eyebrow as he uncurled his fingers to show Thomas the crown...the tips bent and jagged. He opened his mouth, fingers twitching. _What about--_

Roman paused as no sound came out. He inhaled sharply, jerking his hand up to his throat, feeling a jagged scar there. 

“That _necklace._ ” Thomas practically bit off the word. “Embedded itself into your throat, destroying your vocal cords. You’re mute. Roman. MUTE.” 

Ice shot down his spine. 

_Mute._

That meant. 

He inhaled raggedly, vision blurring with unshed tears.

“Your career as an actor is over.” Thomas grimaced, hands clenching as he shook his head. “Or will be.”

Will be? This wasn’t permanent??---OF COURSE! 

His eyes widened, fingers shifting in familiar but unfamiliar gestures. ~My last decision.~ He could choose to keep all three of his choices...or none of them.

The Genie jerked his head in a nod. “Yes. But not yet.” He shook his head. “Not yet,” he repeated quietly. “You have twenty-four hours to experience your new life before deciding whether or not you’ll keep it.” He turned away, his skin going purple and dark blue.

~Thomas.~ His fingers twitched as Roman opened his mouth again to---he didn’t know what he was thinking. He--He couldn’t...couldn’t speak! 

_Mute._

_Silent_

_Voiceless._

No. He couldn't think about that right now! Thomas was hurting. He could see that. He could help the Genie far easier than facing his inability to talk. 

Roman pushed himself stiffly to his feet, his right leg twinging as he put his full weight on it. He limped forward a step, reaching out. ~Thomas.~

The Genie inhaled raggedly, shoulders hunching. “I’ll be back then.” He choked out, vanishing before Roman could stop him.


	22. Why Dare To Hope?

Thomas fell to his knees in the middle of the timestream, shuddering as he fought against the wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm him as the current buffeted him from all sides.

He'd been a fool. 

Roman had had him actually believing there on the bridge that this warp would be different. That his streak of Greens would finally come to an end. 

And then the actor had to go and--

Thomas screamed, slamming his fists down among lifelines that quickly parted around his hands to avoid getting pummeled.

He _hated_ this! 

He'd gone and let himself hope that he'd finally get his Golden Warp…. and Roman had screwed it all up. 

And for what? Some nobody on a bridge. Someone Thomas hadn’t even sensed! 

He bowed his head, resting his forehead on his fists, tears streaking silently down his cheeks. 

He should have sensed the boy on the bridge. Hadn't he deliberately pulled up the nearby lifelines to find the individual Roman wanted to help? Hadn’t he looked to see which lives would intersect with Roman's so Thomas could be prepared for the one the actor would choose to help?

He growled, banging his fists in frustration. 

But how could you prepare for an interaction when it had _never happened_ in the first place?!

Roman’s nerves made all too much sense now. Not knowing how it would end? Ha. It was because he didn't even know the boy! 

Why?

“WHY?!” He yelled, his fingers digging into the timestream. It had been going so well. _So. Well._ Roman hadn’t even seemed to be affected by the setback in his career. He'd been looking forward to his third choice, not even considering the possibility of redoing the second. 

This Warp had been going so well that Thomas had actually...he’d believed---

He shuddered, closing his eyes to prevent more tears tears from falling. He’d been a fool. Perhaps if it had been some other Time Genie involved...Roman would have been able to pull the boy back onto the bridge before the railing broke. He would have completed the Warp and kept the new timeline. 

_That_ Time Genie would have received a Golden mark next to their name.

But Roman had picked up Thomas’s pocket watch.

Roman had chosen to Warp with him. 

And ended up cursed to fail by default. 

His shoulders slumped, a soft moan of despair escaping him. 

Hadn't he known from the start that this Warp would end in Green? It was _his_ fault Roman would now have to choose to undo all the good he’d done. Forgo the success of his first two choices in order to avoid living his life as a mute. 

If Roman had warped with any other Time Genie....one not cursed to only ever have Greens.

This could have been different. Roman could have succeeded. If only--

Thomas lifted his head, chest aching as he pulled up Roman’s nearly beige lifeline along with Patton and Logan’s vibrant red ones. “I’m sorry, Roman.” He whispered, running his fingers over the threads, mourning what could have been. “I wish you could have Warped with a different Genie.” 

Warped with Talyn, Joan, or even Kenny. 

Anyone but him. 

_Anyone._


	23. Decisions, Decisions, Decisions

Roman had never wanted an office job. Stuck in a windowless cubicle. Sitting at a desk. Staring at a computer screen. He could feel his creative brain cells shriveling at the mere thought. 

He quietly exhaled, tugging at the red kerchief he’d tied around his neck to hide the scar, taking the opportunity to feel the metal of the crown necklace hidden underneath. 

It was probably morbid in a way, to wear the thing that took away his voice. But at the same time--

_Happy Thoughts._

Roman couldn’t imagine not wearing it. He’d always worn his crown whenever possible before. He wasn’t going to let a little accident stop him from doing so now. 

Adjusting the sleeves of his white dress shirt, pushing them up past his elbows, Roman took a breath, brushing the pocket watch hidden under his shirt as he looked up at the skyscraper emblazoned with the S.P.E.C.S. Logo. 

Thankfully, he wasn’t completely clueless to what he was getting into. The memories of the last...well the last six months, since he’d been in a coma for the other half of the year...had drifted into his mind with the grace of a sledgehammer as he’d stayed up too late trying to find out what had happened to Virgil.

They told him about his struggles with physical therapy, about learning sign language to communicate, and more recently how he, Patton, and Logan had been working to create a more ‘vocal’ language of clicks, whistles and pops that Roman could make with his tongue and lips to communicate.

He knew Patton had transferred his residency to the City so he could be closer to Roman and that his best friend was constantly calling and dropping by to ensure he was doing okay and following his strict recovery program to the letter. Occasionally, Pat would even bring him new creams to try to help the scars on his body fade. 

Roman grimaced, lifting a hand to feel the new half moon scar by his left eye. So many scars. 

The memories had told him hundreds of things last night. 

Except what happened to Virgil. 

He hadn’t seen the scriptwriter since the bridge. Since his bungled rescue attempt.

The guy was practically a ghost. Hours of scouring the internet had yielded him a Facebook page that hadn’t been updated in years, a Myspace account similarly void of recent activity, and a handful of articles about the accident on the bridge. 

He knew Virgil had survived the fall, having been taken to the same hospital that Roman had spent six months lying in a coma in. 

But after that? Nothing. No word on how his own recovery went. No word on where he’d disappeared to.

No word on if he was still alive. 

Would Thomas know the answer?

Would he even allow Roman to ask him? 

“You know, for just ‘coming to check out the place’...I didn’t expect you to appear so nervous, Ro.” Logan called to him as he stepped out of the building, two styrofoam cups in hand. 

Dressed in a black shirt and blue tie, he looked just like any other worker coming in and out of the building. No one would suspect the Nerd in glasses was actually the CEO of the place. 

Roman huffed, blowing his hair out of his eyes. ~I’m not nervous.~ He signed, lifting his chin. ~I was admiring the building.~ 

Logan quirked an eyebrow. “Sure you were.” He said, handing him one of the cups. “I’ve conducted enough interviews to know a nervous person when I see one and Roman, you're definitely nervous.” 

Roman clicked his tongue in irritation, feeling the cold sides of the drink. =Shut up.=

Logan sighed. “I’m not expecting you to say yes right now, Ro. It’s a job offer. That’s all. If you don’t think it will work out here, you can refuse." 

He knew that. Knew Logan was just trying to help him get back on his feet now that he was recovered enough to try and find work. But it didn’t bring him any comfort. This was an office job. Pure and simple. 

“In any case.” Logan tilted his head to the cup. “It’s frozen hot chocolate. To satisfy your new sweet tooth and keep steam from coming out of Dr. Patton’s ears if he thought I was offering you something hot.” 

Right. ~We can’t have that.~ Angry Patton was not a sight he wanted to deal with today, especially when it came to drinks. He wasn’t allowed hot things because his throat was still healing. Wasn’t allowed hard things for fear of tearing the lining. Gah. What he wouldn’t give to chow down on a bag of Ranch Doritos right now. He had been limited to soft and cold foods for far too long because the doctors were worried about how his throat would hold up.

Roman lifted the cup to his lips, taking a sip and popped his lips in surprise. =How?= It tasted just like Hot Chocolate! But Frozen. How--what wizardry was this? 

Lo shrugged. “I don’t know, but I had hoped it would satisfy.” He said adjusting his glasses, giving Roman a small smile.

He took another sip, before grinning, saluting Logan like Remy would have. =Perfect.= he clicked.

_He hadn’t met Remy in this timeline. The coma had kinda made that impossible._

“Good.” Logan smiled, gesturing to the skyscraper. “So? Ready for the tour?” 

No. But he’d said he’d come look. Roman nodded. ~Lead the way, Boss.~ He said, following after Specs as he led them inside to---

A jungle. 

It was like walking into the middle of a freaking jungle. 

Roman stopped dead, mouth dropping open, staring at the various flowers, vines, bushes and even large trees growing in the wide open room. He hadn't even considered that the large windows outside meant that the ground floor was more open than typical office spaces. It could hardly be considered typical at all when the ‘first’ floor extended at least six stories up in its own mini biosphere. 

Logan chuckled. “I told you it wasn’t your regular office, Roman. We are trying to save the planet after all.” 

Roman blinked, hands stuttering in their movements as he craned his head to see through the forest. ~Yes, but---Flowers? Trees? Insi--How?~ 

He’d expected desks, ringing phones, possibly labs every now and then with scientists in their oversized goggles doing experiments. But having an actual mini rainforest inside a building? He whirled, glaring at Logan. ~YOU! I thought l.a.b.s.~ He fingerspelled. ~e.x.p.e.r.i.m.e.n.t.s Mad Scientist. Not World in a building!~ 

“And that’s why I offered you a place here, Ro.” he said, his eyes sparkling as he pulled Roman deeper into the building, walking along the clearly marked paths, while people strolled by, some in dress shirts and pants, others wearing actual lab coats or in overalls and covered in dirt. “It’s not your typical sit down job. If you give this place a chance, I think you could find something that will suit you here.” 

Roman had expected to walk in and walk back out an hour later, washing his hands of the whole office gig once and for all, content that he’d satisfied Logan’s pleas to come check it out.

But no. Each and every room Specs led him to on the tour held a new surprise, a new adventure. No two floors were exactly the same, devoted to different areas of research and experimentation that wasn’t only focused on energy conservation or restoring the planet. 

Lo had devoted six floors to medicinal studies, potential cures, and new medical procedures that were less invasive with better equipment to help Patton out in this timeline. 

He had created another two floors for testing new environmentally safe building materials, some artificially created, others using organic sources. 

Logan even had an entire floor devoted to underwater exploration, acting more like a command center for a virtual army of underwater robots and mini submarines.

It was all...more captivating than Roman wanted to admit. 

He couldn’t see how he could contribute to it though. His major had been in theater. Not...not sciencey stuff! 

He chewed his bottom lip, his mind racing with potential ideas as he followed Logan back outside hours later, the day having passed by in a blur.

Maybe he could help out with the building materials? He'd helped build sets for plays back in the day after taking a couple carpentry and metalworking classes. If he brushed off those rusty skills…maybe...maybe...he could…

“It’s a lot to take in, I know.” Logan said, interrupting his inner musings as he flagged down a taxi for Roman to take home. 

Roman nodded, quietly grateful that he wouldn’t have to take the bus back. The day he received the all clear to rid his motorcycle again couldn’t come soon enough. ~Understatement.~ 

“Just...think on it okay? Working here. For me.” Logan rubbed the back of his neck. “For as long as you want or need.” 

Funny. He’d said almost the exact same thing to Logan when he’d been a ex-convict huddled on a street corner. He’d given him a chance. A job. 

Roman nodded, clapping Logan on the shoulder. ~I’ll let you know.~ He promised, giving Lo his most winning smile as he slipped into the back of the cab. ~Soon.~ 

He gave a jaunty wave through the glass, his smile fading into a thoughtful frown as the taxi took off, dropping him off at his small apartment twenty minutes later for another PB&Crofters dinner.

He exhaled, mind whirling as he stepped out onto the balcony, careful to not look over the edge.

_Falling._

He shook his head, resolutely looking out to the river a stone’s throw away. 

It wasn’t just this potential job he had to think about. 

Roman brushed the broken crown hidden under the kerchief, before grabbing the chain around his neck, fishing the golden pocket watch from out of his shirt. He held it in the palm of his hand, tracing the design with his thumb.

It was the Warp.

It had been weighing in the back of his mind the entire day.

His final choice. 

He could choose to keep this life. Live as a mute. Unknown. Unable to have the acting career he’d always dreamed of. Working instead for Logan’s Environmentally Willy-Wonka-esque company for the foreseeable future. 

Or he could choose to reject his three choices. Return to his fame and fortune. Return to being a big star on Broadway, return to his trip to London for filming his first major role in a movie. Return to being able to speak, laugh, and sing again. 

Roman narrowed his eyes as he slipped the chain from around his neck. 

Return to a life with a homebody Patton -blind and in a wheelchair. 

To a temperamental Logan -an ex-con with a large LOGIC tattoo on his forehead barely getting his life back together. 

And to a life with Virgil--with Virgil dead from committing suicide before he could see his script become famous. 

Roman shook his head, lifting his eyes to the river, watching yachts idly moving up and down it. His hand tightened on the watch.

Or he could choose to keep this life. 

With Patton on his way to becoming a successful Pediatric Surgeon, helping children recover from their illnesses. 

With Logan and his company improving the world with each new discovery and invention.

With Virgil….hopefully still alive, hopefully well on his way to achieving the fame and fortune he deserved.

His lips twitched. 

When it came down to it. It really wasn’t that hard of a choice. 

In one smooth movement, Roman pulled his arm back.

_So long old life._

He thrust his arm forward--only for a rainbow hand to grab his wrist, stopping him from throwing the watch into the river.


	24. The Final Decision

Thomas caught Roman’s wrist in the nick of time, preventing the actor from throwing his pocket watch into the river below. “What are you doing?!” He demanded, heart hammering in his throat. 

Of all the things he’d expected when he reappeared to hear Roman’s choice, this wasn’t it. Regret? Yes. Sorrow? Yes. Fervent Apologies? Sure. But throwing his watch? No. 

Roman raised an eyebrow, his other hand gesturing. ~I thought that was obvious, Thomas.~

He rolled his eyes, tugging the actor back inside, away from the balcony and its river view. “Throwing my watch away isn’t how you end a Warp, Roman.” 

He knew Roman wasn’t happy with how it all turned out. 

But throwing the watch away? He hadn’t expected that. 

Though maybe Thomas would drop the thing in the ocean himself once this Warp was over. Of course...with his bad luck, the watch would barely last a week in the depths before someone managed to find it.

He let go of the Actor, taking a step back. “You hand the watch to me. You tell me you want to return to the original timeline and then I return you to your original timeline.” He stated, trying to hide the bitterness in his voice. It was his fault this warp was ending in Green. His cursed fault. “That’s how you end this.

Roman frowned, dropping the hand holding his watch to his side. ~You really think so little of me?~ He asked. 

Thomas blinked. “What do you mean?” It was obvious what was about to happen. There was no need to soften the blow by pretending to even consider it. He'd known Roman’s choice the moment he'd told him he was Mute. Silence his voice? Forever? No. Roman wouldn't let that happen.

Roman clicked his tongue, sighing. =Sparkles.= He slipped the watch into his pocket freeing up both hands to sign. ~I. Choose.~ 

Thomas tensed, heart leaden in his chest. There was no reason to drag it out. He knew the outco--

~To Stay.~ 

Thomas's vision tunneled, focusing in on the sign frozen on Roman’s hands, a dull roar sounding in his ears as he swayed. What? _Stay?_ No. He'd misunderstood. Thomas shook his head. “Stay? No you meant--”

=STAY= Roman clicked, his hands repeating the gesture for emphasis. ~Stay. Here. Stay. Now. Stay. Keep Three Decisions. Stay. Thomas. I Stay.~ =Comprende?= 

No. He barely understood basic Spanish on a good day let alone in this moment. He--he had to be dreaming.

“You. want. to. stay. _Here. Now?!”_ Thomas asked, voice cracking. He violently shook his head, taking a step back. “ _No one_ stays. No one keeps--It’s always GREEN!” Thomas looked up jabbing a finger at Roman, his skim shimmering like a vibrant fire opal. “My Warps Always Choose to Return. ALWAYS! They don’t Keep...I can’t…” 

His legs buckled, sending him to the floor, gasping for breath. This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t--

Warm, confident arms wrapped around Thomas, holding him close. A quiet series of pops and clicks met his ears, shifting into words. =It’s alright. You’re okay. Breathe. Thomas. Breathe. It’s fine. Thomas. You’re okay.= Gentle fingers ran through his hair, soothing him. 

Even now. After all this….Roman was choosing to comfort _him?_ It should...it should be the other way around.

Somehow, he found his voice. “You’ll be mute.” Thomas whispered, shoulders hunching as Roman’s hand paused in his hair. “You won’t be an actor. How could you choose this?” 

Roman exhaled, a breathy sound, before he clicked. =How could I not? Pat. Lo. ...Virgil. They have more to give than I do as an actor.=

Thomas shook his head, pushing away, staggering to his feet. “You can’t….” He trailed off seeing Roman’s tender smile, his eyes shimmering with their own tears as he also stood. 

The actor swallowed, hands gesturing. ~I can. I--~ He shrugged, pulling out the pocket watch and placed it gently in Thomas’s hand, closing his fingers over the cool surface, before Roman pulled away, flashing him his widest smile. ~I had my fifteen minutes of fame, Thomas. It’s time to give my friends a chance to shine.~ He signed.

The watch flashed gold, vanishing back into the timestream before Thomas could stop it. Its job in this Warp done. 

It wasn’t fair. Thomas searched Roman’s eyes. It wasn’t fair! This was supposed to be a chance to help Roman obtain a better life! “You’re sure?” He whispered. “You can’t change your mind after this point.”

The actor nodded without any hesitation. ~YES.~ He signed firmly. ~I’m sure.~

Confirmation. Thomas took a steadying breath. “Okay.” He said, reached out brushing Roman’s cheek, his hand glimmering as the timestream swirled around them, twisting and turning into its new course as he removed his golden anchor points from Roman’s lifeline. 

_“What once was, will no longer be. I give you the life of your chosen three.”_ Thomas whispered, allowing the actor’s lifeline to fade back into the timestream, his nearly beige thread quickly disappearing among the more vibrant reds, greens, and blues. 

Roman exhaled, closed his eyes, his hand rising to touch Thomas’s fingers. ~Thank you.~ He signed.

His heart twisted, a sob threatening to choke him. 

_Don’t thank me. Please. Don’t thank me for this._

Thomas inhaled shakily, pulling away, grabbing blindly for a ripple of time to take him away. **“May you find happiness in your future decisions, Roman.”** He said, his voice echoing as he fled, vanishing from the actor’s sight.

Thomas collapsed as soon as the Common’s of the Ethereal Plane appeared, curling into a ball, tears streaming unchecked down his cheeks as he broke down, barely hearing the celebratory cheers of multiple Time Genies and Joan’s “YOU GOT A GOLDEN THOMAS! YOU DID I--” before they cut off, the room falling deadly silent as Joan whispered. “Dude, you okay?” 

He shook his head, curling tighter into a ball. No. No he wasn’t. He’d finally gotten the Golden Warp he wanted….but at what cost?


	25. Phone Calls and Visits

Roman raised his hand, his fingers fluttering in a silent farewell at the spot Thomas had vanished from. 

Shakily he inhaled, collapsing on the couch, burying his head in his hands. That...wasn’t how he had expected this to end. He bit his lip, lifting his eyes to where the Genie had stood. ~May you find peace too, Thomas.~ He signed. 

Thomas had been so surprised by his decision. So prepared to return Roman to his original life. It…..had he made the right--

Roman gritted his teeth. No. He rose to his feet, pacing around his small apartment like a caged tiger. 

He couldn’t doubt himself. He’d chosen this life. Chosen to play this small role given to him so his friends could make the world a better place. He would _not_ regret it. He would _not_ doubt himself. 

He pulled the kerchief from around his neck, clutching at the crown pendant. 

_Happy Thoughts._  
Happy Thoughts.  
Happy Thoughts. 

It was right. It had to be right. But….

Roman exhaled, dropping his hand as he found himself again staring out to the river. 

How could he ever know for sure...without knowing how his choice had affected Virgil? 

He turned on his heel, once more circling the living room. He should have asked the Genie about the scriptwriter while he had the chance. 

No. He couldn’t have. 

Thomas had nearly turned black as all the colors in his skin blended together leaving the faintest of glow, like a series of small twinkling stars shimmering there upon hearing Roman's choice. 

Had the Genie really never had anyone say yes at the end of these warps? What was the point of warping if you didn’t intend to keep the changes? Should he have chosen his old life then? 

Roman bared his teeth, hissing. How could he have lived with himself though? How could he have looked at Patton or Logan again without seeing their happier alternate selves?!

That would have been torture. He had chosen right. He had to have chos--

BZZZZZZ

He jumped, mouth open in a silent scream as his phone buzzed on the coffee table. Geez--Who would be calling at this ti--Pat. Logan usually texted first. It had to be Patton. 

His best friend was currently on the other side of the country for a seminar. Which meant he probably didn’t realize how late it was. Roman grabbed the phone, forcing a smile on his lips as he hit answer for the video call. 

If he didn’t, his best friend would panic and call the neighbors again to check in on him. 

Roman wasn’t sure he wanted the company right now. 

~Hey Pat, wassup?~ He greeted, fingers fumbling in their signs. He was too wound up to properly form them anymore. 

Patton noticed too, his eyes immediately narrowing as he gave him the once over. “You okay, Princey?” He asked, gently. “I was just calling to see how your tour with Logan went.” 

Roman grimaced and shrugged. ~I don’t know. It’s~ He waved his hand vaguely. ~Not what I expected. Different.~ He hadn’t wanted to think about it until after he made his final choice.

“Good different?” 

He bit his lip. ~Maybe?~ He shook his head. ~I don’t know. It’s...different.~ His mind wasn’t on the potential new job now. It was on the Warp. On Thomas. On his New Life. On Virgil. Had he made a mistake? 

“Ro? Look at me.” 

Roman blinked, gripping the phone tightly as he raggedly inhaled, looking back at his best friend. Geez. Both He and Thomas were in bad shape from this choice. 

Patton leaned forward. “It’s going to be okay.” He said staring straight at the camera, with his best hundred watt smile. “I know it’s not what you wanted in a career and it’s a lot to think about. But it’s _your_ happiness we’re concerned about. Lo won’t be offended if you say no to the job. But you have to trust yourself.” He touched his chest. “Trust your heart. No matter what you choose, Ro. You have our support. Give yourself time to think it over okay? Don’t rush into it before you consider all your options.” 

That was true. He had their support. He had both Patton and Logan in his life in this new timeline when he hadn’t had them in the other. It...he had to believe it would be alright. Even if he never found out what happened to Virgil N. Shush.

Roman let out a slow breath, giving Patton a shaky smile as he nodded. Okay. He mouthed, raising his hands to-- 

Tap. Tap. 

Roman paused, turning his head to the door, with a frown. A double knock? Who was knocking on his door at this time of night?

“What is it, Ro?” 

~A knock.~ He signed without looking at the screen, moving to the door. ~Someone’s at the door.~ 

“Oh, well. Don’t let me keep you!” Patton said, eyes lighting up. “Maybe it’s a new neighbor!” 

Maybe. But that would mean going through the whole awkward ‘I’m mute’ conversation again. Those hardly ever went well. 

Still...He gave a quick salute in farewell, making a mental note as he pressed end to call Pat back once the person was gone. 

Setting the phone on the side table nearby, Roman fumbled with the locks before pulling the door open, the polite smile freezing on his face as he got a good look at his visitor. 

Purple and black jacket. 

Pale face.

Wary dark eyes.

A hesitant smile.

A husky voice.

_“Hey.”_


	26. Epilogue

_“You’re going to live to see yourself famous.”_

Virgil licked his lips, staring at faded numbering on the apartment door, his hands white on the strap of the messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

Come on, blast it. Come on. Just...just knock.

Knock before he lost his nerve again.

How could he though? He didn’t know what to expect! Just because the stranger on the bridge had said those words then--those words that had wormed their way into his head and echoed through his mind the entire time he’d been in the hospital. The entire time he’d gone through therapy. The entire time he’d spent sleepless nights struggling to find the right words to put to paper to try and prove him right. Prove that he could...leave a mark on the world--didn’t mean that Roman Sanders would still mean those words now.

Virgil swallowed.

Not after...after….

He grimaced, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. Come on. Face it. Knock. If he hates you at least you’ll know. You’ll never have to see him again.

But did he want that little bubble of confidence in his life to pop?

_“You’re going to live to see yourself famous.”_

He’d ruined the guy’s life after all.

Roman Sanders. An aspiring actor. Known for his singing among his friends. Forever silenced after rescuing an idiotic coward on the bridge. Roman had almost died that night when he used his body as a shield to protect Virgil from the impact of the ship passing by below.

His fingers unglued themselves from the strap to touch the half moon scar by his right eye.

He owed this man his life.

Owed him big.

But what do you say to the guy who basically gave up his life in order to save yours?

A simple Thank You could hardly cover it. It couldn’t bring back his lost voice. It couldn’t bring back lost time. It couldn’t bring back the lost career. And it definitely couldn’t cover Virgil’s lack of contact with him before now.

Only a coward would wait nearly a year to thank their rescuer.

_“You’re going to live to see yourself famous.”_

No, no. He just….he couldn’t face the man until he had a proper thank you, prepared. And only now..now could he give it.

He could show Roman--heart pounding in his chest, Virgil knocked. Two quick taps on the door. His breath caught in his throat, the blood roaring in his ears as he went pale, taking a step back.

Oh no. OH NO. He’d KNOCKED! He’d actually knocked! WHY DID HE DO THAT?!

He had to run. He had to go!

But his feet refused to move, rooted to the ground as his ears caught the fumbling of the locks on the other side.

Oh, blazes. This was it. It was happening. The door was opening.

The man opened the door with a smile that froze on his face. His eyes going wide as he stared at Virgil.

_Roman Sanders._

Virgil recognized him from the pictures. There was no doubt that was who stood in front of him.

Did Roman hate him? He totally hated him...No… no wait there was no disgust there. Only surprise. Of course there would be surprise. It had been a year, if Roman even remembered him at all.

Virgil swallowed, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards as he flicked his hand in a wave. “Hey.” He said. Immediately regretting speaking as soon as the word left his lips. Hey? Who said Hey anymore?! He shifted his feet. “Uhmm….you-you prob-probably don’t re-remember-”

Roman surged forward, grabbing Virgil into a tight hug, practically squeezing the air out of his lungs.

Warmth. Overwhelming Warmth. He could barely process the sensation before Roman pulled back keeping his hands on Virgil’s shoulders as he looked him up and down.

Roman smiled, tears in his eyes as he gestured with one hand. You’re alive. he mouthed.

Virgil ducked his head, feeling all the more guilty about waiting. “Y-Yah….I am." He exhaled, forcing himself to look up, to meet the first face besides a therapist who’d been genuinely happy to see him. “I’m sorry….about not coming--”

Roman shook his head, still grinning, making a negating gesture, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to move them more.

Virgil licked his lips. Roman couldn’t speak. “My adoptive parents were deaf.” He said quietly. And wasn’t that its own can of worms right there? “So...I know sign.”

Roman’s eyes quite literally lit up as he grinned wide. ~REALLY?! Great! Virgil...come in. Come in please.~

Huh. Not bad for a guy brand new to the language, the fingers still weren’t quite correct in their positioning, but he was understanda--wait. Virgil clutched his messenger bag. Roman knew his NAME?! The man actually...he knew who he was? “You’re sure?” He asked.

Roman grabbed his arm pulling him deeper into the apartment. ~Yes. Please.~ He said, leading him into a modest living room decorated with theater memorabilia and pulled Virgil to sit on the couch with him before the former actor let go.

~How are you?~ He asked, eyes intent on Virgil’s.

Wasn’t that a loaded question? The last time Roman had seen him, he’d been trying to kill himself.

Virgil exhaled, hand twisting in a gesture. ~Better.~ “I...I’m doing much...I haven’t tried to die, recently.” He said quietly, wincing at his use of words. Not everyone liked him saying that. They treated his attempted suicide like it was the plague. To be avoided at all costs.

Roman’s eyes sparked. ~Good.~ He said, squeezing Virgil’s hand. ~No more attempts to fly? Visit N.e.v.e.r.l.a.n.d.?~

The phrase startled a shaky laugh from him. “No. No flying for me.”

_“You’re going to live to see yourself famous.”_

Virgil stared down at his bag. “I...I don’t like flying actually. Which shows how messed up I-I was. When you--You--” He gestured. ~Saved me.~ He blinked, eyes welling with tears.

Did Roman regret it? The man had taken the brunt of the impact when they’d hit the deck of that ship and crashed through it. He’d been in a coma for months, nearly dying multiple times! Virgil had come out of it relatively unscathed in comparison.

Roman tugged his hand, fingers moving. ~I.m. g.l.a.d. y.o.u.r.e. o.k.~ He fingerspelt in Virgil’s line of sight.

Virgil nodded. “S-same here.” He whispered, and flinched. Did that sound selfish? “Fo-for you!” He added, looking up. “...I mean I’m glad I’m okay too, but I’m--How are you?"

Roman huffed a silent laugh, shoulders shaking. ~I’m much better now that you’ve here.~ He said, smiling warmly. ~I worried for you.~

He shouldn’t have stayed away so long.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I...should have come sooner. But I’d been…” He brushed his messenger bag, fiddling with the clasp. Could he show him? Could he actually show Roman?

~Getting your life back together?~ Roman asked, raising his eyebrow.

Virgil licked his lips. “That...yah...I’m seeing a therapist and such, but...I’ve been working on--” He pulled out the book, handing it to Roman before he could think better of it. “This.”

Roman’s reverently took the book, eyes wide as his fingers traced the slightly raised title on the front.

_The Haunting of Anxiety._

“It’s being published at the end of the month.” Virgil said, heart jumping into his throat as Roman opened the book, flipping through the pages, “And...and has been green lit to...to become a movie.” It still felt like a dream really. It didn’t feel real that people wanted to see his story put on the big screen. It never would have happened if Roman hadn’t--

_“You’re going to live to see yourself famous.”_

Roman looked up, his eyes shimmering. ~This. Wow. Virgil. This is Amazing. Congrats!~

“Thanks.” Virgil shifted, licking his lips. It’s now or never. “Umm...I…just wanted you to see.” He reached out, turning the back to the dedication page. “That.”

**For my Hero, Roman Sanders.  
This never would have happened without you.  
Thanks.**


End file.
